Ashes
by Torithy
Summary: When your life effectively burns down around you, sometimes you rise from the flames and sometimes all that's left are ashes ...
1. Prologue & One

**Author's Note: It's been a long time since I did this, so I'm pretty rusty but I'd love to know what you think ... Just in case there's any confusion, this isn't linked to any of my previous stories and it's kinda retro SOA, picking up post-Call Of Duty and flitting back over the years. Thanks for reading! T x**

* * *

 **Ashes** **  
** _Hope rises like a phoenix from the ashes of shattered dreams...  
\- SA Sachs  
_

 **Prologue**

Lifting his head from his hands, Jax Teller signalled for another shot of whiskey from the hangaround behind the bar and then lifted it in a weary toast. "Kozik," he sighed, pain and anger and guilt at the loss of yet another of his brothers etched across his face. "Ride free, bro."

An uneasy silence fell over the already sombre clubhouse as those gathered simply raised their glasses in a final toast to their fallen brother. The smell of sweat, fear and burning flesh still seemed to cling to their nostrils.

Chibs clapped a hand to their young vice-president's shoulders with a sigh. "Ah, Jacky-boy, he knew the risks. And at least it was quick. Painless. Koz woulda been glad for that."

Jax knew the Scot meant well, but still he glowered at him as he lifted his head from his hands and signalled to the hangaround for another shot of whiskey. Anything to numb the pain and the anger and, most of all, the guilt that had settled heavy on his shoulders. "Really?" he all but snarled. "You think he'd be glad to be blown sky-fucking-high? Because, way I see it, that's gonna really ruin your whole goddamn _day!_ "

But just as swiftly as his temper had flared, his shoulders slumped again and he shook his head, raking a shaky hand through his blond hair. "This shit's on me, man. No one else. He was a damn good soldier. And he shouldn't have fucking gone out like that. _I_ led him into that."

"Can't think like that, lad," Chibs said, reaching out to tilt his younger brother's face up with one rough hand. "Look at me, Jacky – you led the rest o' us back out. Gotta focus on that. What's done is done."

"He got anyone other than that brother of his?" Jax asked finally.

"Not that I-"

From the seat in the corner, Tig cleared his throat – only to draw a sharp look from Happy. It didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" Chibs frowned, impatience getting the better of him. "Cat got your fuckin' tongues?"

"She should at least know," the curly-haired sergeant muttered, almost petulantly and more to himself than to anyone else. "Ain't right after everything, her not knowing ..."

"Fuck, that's rich coming from you. You gonna be the one to tell her?" Happy demanded from across the room. "Because I dunno what she'd take worse, man – the news, or your ass showing up on her doorstep."

"Someone wanna tell me what the fuck you guys are talking about?"

At Jax's irritated interruption, the pair exchanged glances before Tig seemed to steel himself to see out whatever it was he thought lay ahead.

"Jenn," he said. "Jennifer James. Kozik's girl."

* * *

 **One**

 _ **Ten years earlier**_

Waking to the feel of long silky hair tickling his bare chest, the biker threw an arm over his eyes to block out the intruding early morning light, but still managed to reach out with his free hand to find soft, smooth skin. "Mornin'," he drawled, his voice rough with sleep. "You're up early."

"Mmm, so are you," came the suggestive response, making him grin and crack open an eye as he felt hips rolling against his even with the covers between them. "Thought I might have worn you out."

Opening his eyes fully with a smirk at that, he shook his head and just drank in the sight of her straddling him as he lay back against the pillows and let his fingers lazily caress her bare thighs. This, this was just the perfect icing on a damn good cake – a celebration of a milestone he'd once thought he'd never see. Besides, he was an outlaw, not a monk. He was allowed some vices and, right now, she was arguably the most sinful one he had left.

"See something you like, tough guy?" the girl teased, that mane of wavy dyed-red hair tumbling down to hide her breasts until she flicked it back as if in invitation and sent his hands sliding up over her ribs to cup the firm mounds. "Sure feels that way ..."

"Fuck, Jenn," he groaned, feeling the heat of her against his already rock-hard cock and shifting more to try to make the most of the delicious friction than to actually achieve the by-product of a glance at the alarm clock on the night-stand. "Just gone seven. You tryin' to kill me, doll?"

"Nuh-uh," she said, shaking her head as her best little-girl pout faded into a naughty grin and she leaned down to trail hot kisses across his chest. "But hey, be a helluva way to go, huh?"

He loved the sound of her laughter as he grabbed her and pulled her in for a long kiss, tugging the tangled sheets out from between them and swiftly pinning her naked curves below him. His sexy little firecracker. Eight feet of trouble in a tight little five-foot-something package, with her name scrawled on his neck in cursive ink.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered suddenly, those piercing green eyes softening and her arms slipping around his neck, her fingers toying with the sleep-tousled blond spikes of his hair. "Six months clean, Koz. Six _months_."

And if admittedly his MC was the real reason to make some goddamn changes and learn to fucking live by them, then she was definitely an added incentive. A year ago, he never would have believed he'd make it. Not without ending up in either prison or a grave or, at the very least, losing his patch. And yet here he was. Battle-scarred, but whole. No blacked-out ink on his back. No needle in his arm. Clean and with his leather cut hung at the foot of the bed he shared with a crazy-gorgeous, albeit dangerously flawed, dancer nearly ten years his junior.

Jenn's hand caressed the scruff of his cheek as she gazed up at him and he turned his head to press a soft kiss and then another into her palm. He would have trailed his lips right up her arm, savouring the faint scent of her cocoa butter body lotion, but she pulled away before he got too far past the delicate underside of her wrist. Before he could reach the lingering track marks that marred the skin below her elbow.

He knew how hard this was for her. He'd been there after all.

"Hey, look at me," he said, refusing to let her turn her flushed face from him. "JJ, look at me. You'll get there too, babe. If I can do it, you can absolutely do it. You with me?"

"I ... I want to," she said, tears threatening and her voice so low he almost didn't hear the words. "But ... I don't know if I can ..."

"You _can_ ," Kozik insisted. "You can do anything you set your mind to, doll. _Any-fucking-thing._ You're strong. Stronger than you know."

"Am I?" she questioned, doubt in those too-bright eyes.

"Handle my shit, don't ya?" he said, shooting her a grin as he leaned down to claim her mouth with his again.

But her hands were on his chest, putting space between them as reality threatened the sanctuary they had created under the covers. "Six weeks isn't six months, Koz."

"No," he admitted, his lips trailing along her jaw and down her throat. "No, it ain't." His hand grazed down her side, slipping beneath one toned thigh and down to the back of her knee to guide her leg up and over his hip. "But it ain't six days either, and I know there was a time that felt impossible too."

"Every day feels impossible. Every single fucking _day_ ," she said, a flare of frustrated anger following the rare moment of sheer open vulnerability. She didn't often let her guard down, not even with him.

Oh, they fucked and they fought all right. She could swear up a storm and he'd punched more than his share of walls, and there probably wasn't a surface in his apartment that they hadn't made up on. But lust and rage were easier to vent than fear or pain or sadness. And getting angry was definitely easier than admitting to a struggle just to get by. They were both good at bottling that shit up.

Or at least they liked to think they were, when really deep down they both knew that was just the hidden fuel for the fire that could flare between them.

"I feel like I'm drowning," Jenn said softly, her gaze only flickering to his and then away. "Every day."

Kozik knew what it must have cost her to admit that and he reached out to brush a stray lock of that fiery hair back from her face, propped over her on one elbow. "Sweetheart ..."

"I don't want to drag you back down," she managed, through fresh tears that welled up clearly against her will. "But I'm drowning, Koz – and you're the only thing keeping me from going right under. I don't think I can hold on."

"Jesus, Jenn ..."

Her confession hit him like a slug in the gut. He never could stand seeing her hurt – and fuck knows, he'd had plenty of practice. But even then, he was determined to get her through it. To be strong enough for them both.

He could do it.

He could.

* * *

 _ **Six months later**_

"You dumb son of a motherfucking _bitch!_ I oughta revive you just long enough to kill your no-good, junkie ass myself. I swear, Kozik, if you die on me ... Don't you fucking dare die on me, you stupid, stupid bastard!"

But Tig Trager's furious rant was lost on its audience. Neither his unconscious one-time prospect, nor the babbling, terrified girl strung-out in the corner, really heard a word of it. He would have slapped the hysterics out of the silly little bitch right then if he could have reached, but he had his hands full unceremoniously yanking the used needle out of his brother's arm and pulling away the leather belt wrapped around his bicep. It was all he could do to resist the urge to throttle him with it and throw it aside to try resuscitating him instead.

" _Motherfucker!_ " he bit out, wild blue eyes taking in the state of the place even as he pounded on Kozik's chest. How had things slipped back so badly and so under the radar in so little time? "You! Yeah, you, Red – who the fuck else you think I'm talking to? Get your scrawny little ass over here. Fucking _move!_ "

The girl scuttled closer, still clearly spun out on something, all wide-eyed and trembling and with her uncontrollable sobs making her breath hitch in her chest. "If he ... If he dies ..."

"It'll be on _your_ conscience, you devious little whore," Tig hissed. "I mean it, Jenn. If he dies, you are done. You are so fucking _done_. Now, quit snivelling because you _will_ get your shit together and you _will_ help me fix this clusterfuck, you hear me? _Do you fucking hear me?_ "

To be honest, he was a little surprised himself when she nodded in the face of him screaming at her. Maybe Koz was right and she was a tough broad underneath it all.

Too bad she was still a coke-snorting, H-injecting, toxic little bitch to boot ...


	2. Two

**Author's Note: Thanks so much to those who reviewed - it's always nice to get feedback! To answer a question, there will be a few chapters to this, but not too many as it's just intended to be a quick distraction/attempt to get the creativity flowing again. Hope you'll all stick around for the ride ...**

 **Oh, and Merry Christmas!**

* * *

 **Two**

Taking another slug of whiskey, Jax set down the empty shot glass and wiped his hands over his face as he tried to consider where they stood. "So this Jenn ... We reachin' out? Do we even know how to find her? And what's her deal? I mean, we ain't really in a position to be dealing with some chick hot-footing it straight to the cops."

"She wouldn't do that," Tig supplied. "Whatever else she is, she ain't a grass. But maybe the whole thing's stupid anyway. Digging up old ground. It's been a long time since those two were a thing. Forget I said anything, man."

"Except it hasn't. Been a long time."

At the quiet gravelled words, Tig's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he took a step towards where Happy stood leaning on the end of the bar with his head down. "The fuck's that mean?" he demanded. "You know something!"

"Oh, come on," the usually stoic hitman said, taking none-too-kindly to the accusatory finger being jabbed in his direction. "You think Kozik was so keen to patch Redwood again just to kiss and make up with your sorry ass?"

"Her! He was seeing _her?_ " the sergeant-at-arms gaped. "Since when?"

"I dunno. I ain't his keeper. Since he found her in some bar, I guess."

"And what, they were screwin'?"

"Nah," Happy drawled. "Started a book club. They didn't invite you?"

At any other time, they might have all killed themselves laughing at the outraged look of shock on Tig's face. But, as it was, no one was in the mood for laughter and Jax stepped between his two brothers to keep the peace.

"Shit," the young VP sighed heavily, looking from one to the other. "So I guess we gotta break the bad news."

"It should be me. I'll go," Tig said immediately, before turning with a glare at the snort from Happy. "You got a problem with that, killer?"

"Didn't she break your nose when we finally dragged Koz's ass to Reaper Rehab?"

That at least sparked Chibs' attention from where he'd already been drowning his sorrows with copious amounts of whiskey. "Oh-ho, really?" the Scot remarked, eyebrows lifted and his glass tilted in Tig's direction. "Told me he got that in a bare-knuckle fight."

"Bitch's knuckles were bare," the biker in question shrugged, touching a hand to his nose with a delicacy that suggested he remembered the abuse it had suffered all too well.

"Jesus," Jax said, shaking his head. "So, come on then, Hap. What's this girl's deal? She had history with Koz and what? They picked up where they left off, or she's just another piece of pussy, or ...?"

"It's ... complicated," Happy said.

"Complicated? Complicated how?"

But when his answer came, the sergeant and enforcer unwittingly both spoke at once.

"She has his crow."

"She's married."

* * *

"That little slut married some other asshole behind her old man's back?" Tig exploded, his notoriously hot temper flaring for once on his fallen brother's behalf rather than at him. "I fucking knew she was trouble! And I bet she didn't black out that damn crow either ..."

"So you're admitting he was her old man now?" Happy shot back. "You were the one who told her she was nothing and you'd slit her throat if she didn't take off!"

Letting his eyes close for a moment, as if he could block the whole sorry mess out, Jax sank down on the nearest bar stool and tried to get his head round it all. "How did I not know Koz ever had an old lady in the first place?"

"Wee bit before you were a full patch, I'm guessin', Jacky," Chibs shrugged. "And then with him patching Tacoma ... Besides, it ain't like we sit round and just talk through our shite like we got some bloody ladies' sewing circle goin' on."

But Tig, pacing the floor in front of them, was still on the warpath. "More to the goddamn point," he scowled, pointing a finger at Happy again. "How do _you_ know about her being married?"

"Koz told me."

"Koz told you. _Koz_ told you! Am I the only fucking sane one in this club?"

"I bloody hope not, or we really are fucked," Chibs muttered.

"That shit-for-brains dumb blond," Tig continued with his rampage like he hadn't heard a word. "Always thinking with his goddamn dick ..."

That really was too much for their de facto medic and he threw his hands in the air in disbelief. "Are we considering the irony of the source at all here?" came the wry demand.

"Did she get him hooked again?" Tig raged. "And don't go giving me any bullshit about not speaking ill of the dead – if he was using, that cut of his goes in the fucking fire!"

"Koz was eight years clean," Happy said, a warning note to his usual growl. "Don't tarnish that now, bro."

"Yeah, well, he was forty-two years a goddamn idiot! Getting all twisted up over some broad ... Did I teach him nothing? And don't even start me on that landmine shit. Stepping on a motherfucking _landmine?_ Who does that? Then not staying still for a just a second? Not giving anyone a chance to try and fucking fix that shit? If I'd been there ... Dumbass. Stupid goddamn _dumbass_."

They all heard the harsh words choked out around the lump in the throat though. Saw the glimmer of unshed tears in those bright blue eyes and the fists clenched as if that would be enough to hold it all in.

"Ah, Tiggy," Chibs tried softly, crossing the room to clap a warm hand on his brother's shoulder.

But the jaw tightened, the chin lifted in defiance, and a sleeve dashed across those eyes was all the acknowledgement that moment's uncovered sorrow got.

"I'm going for a smoke," the sergeant muttered, pulling away.

They let him go.

* * *

Left alone with his thoughts, Jax only looked up from the empty glass he'd been toying with at the feel of a hand on his back. "Chibs," he said, trying to summon a smile. "What a mess, huh?"

"Aye, laddie," the Scot sighed. "But you know the score. It's already in the past and we need to bury it."

"That's more than we can do for Koz ..."

Chibs bowed his head at that, touching a hand almost instinctively to the silver Celtic cross around his neck. It didn't sit right with him either, not being able to lay their fallen brother to rest. But that was all out of their hands. "Hap talked to Juice," he said instead. "Gave him everything he knew about this Jenn – see if he could work his geek-magic and track the lass down. And yeah, he found her."

"What did we get?" Jax asked, even as a sheaf of paper was pressed into his hand.

"Everything but her bra size," Chibs shrugged. "But you could probably take a guess from the Facebook photos. Power o' the internet, brother."

The VP acknowledged said photos with a raised eyebrow, before moving on. "Hit me with the highlights."

"Not much to tell, man. Did a wee bit o' time a few years ago – over drugs, which I'm guessing ain't a surprise, all things considered – but seems to have stayed more or less outta trouble ever since. Married ... just over three years now. Few mentions in domestic disputes. Charges were filed against the husband, but nothing ever came o' it. There's an address too. Ain't far. Outskirts of Morada."

"Guess we gotta go pay a visit then."

"I dunno, Jacky. You think that's a good idea? If she's been shagging our Koz on the quiet ... And don't get me wrong - married to this asshole, I ain't saying I don't get Blondie's appeal. But you really think us turning up on the doorstep ain't just gonna cause another shitstorm?"

"True. Still, don't feel right breaking news like that to a stranger over the phone," Jax frowned. "And she ain't gonna agree to a meet. Not without knowing what's behind it."

"Hap thinks she works in a club in Lodi maybe. Guess we could check it out ..."

Glancing at the photos again, Jax heaved another sigh. "Tig's right. If they got history, she should know and she should hear it from us."

Chibs nodded slowly. "Aye. It's only right. Especially if that history weren't exactly over and done with."

"Is it ever?" Jax asked wryly.

"Ahh, you're askin' the wrong man there, Jacky-boy," Chibs said, heading off to leave his VP to his thoughts again and calling back over his shoulder. "Wi' my chequered past? Absolutely the wrong man. I'll go keep Tiggy in the loop – let him know we're tracking this Jenn lass. Maybe stop him pacing holes in the yard."

"It's hit him hard," Jax said, in more of a statement than a question. "Kozik."

The Scotsman stopped by the clubhouse door, a fist against the frame and his head down. "That's history for ya, brother. That's history."


	3. Three

**Three**

Perched on top of the wooden picnic table outside the clubhouse, Tig barely even registered his brother's presence when Chibs planted himself down beside him and slung an arm around his shoulders.

"She said this would happen," the sergeant mumbled around his cigarette, as if simply carrying on a conversation he'd already been having with himself. "That this club would get him killed. Kicked off like a little spitfire that day she broke my damn nose and when I smacked her down for it ... The hate when she looked up at me weren't over no busted lip."

"Feisty, huh? No wonder she had Koz hooked. He always did like 'em with a bit o' spark."

Tig just continued like he hadn't heard. "Hypocrite, that's what she called me. _Fucking-bastard-piece-of-shit-cock-sucking-hypocrite._ Said we were no better than she was. That we just put a gun in his hand instead of a needle. Maybe she was right."

"And maybe she was just lashing out like the wounded little hellcat it sounds like she was," Chibs sighed. "Come on, man. She must have known what Koz was when she wound up in his bed and it weren't no boy scout. And okay, the drugs were a dark path, but this club ... He loved this club. Only family he had."

Pitching the butt of his cigarette to the ground, Tig stood to grind it under heel and wiped a hand over his face as he took a long deep breath. "Maybe that's on me too," he said, his tone blunt. "I ran that little bitch outta town ..."

"And what? You think if you hadn't, she'd have turned into a proper wee wifey, had Blondie's babies and, in some twist of fate, that'd all mean he wouldn't have been out there to get his ass blown up? Jesus, Tiggy, give yer head a break, bud! For all you know, the pair o' them woulda been dead inside six months if you'd left them to it. You can't think like that, brother. Because fuck knows if yer anything like me, you got enough to worry about with the bad shite you actually did do without looking to take on anything else. You hear me?"

Tig nodded, more in recognition of his friend's efforts to talk him round than because of any change of heart.

"Then come back inside," Chibs coaxed. "Have a drink for Kozik. Come on."

* * *

 _ **Six months earlier**_

"Come back with me, to the clubhouse," Kozik said, hope plain in those deep blue eyes.

"I can't, Koz. You know that. Someone would recognise me and if word got back to Joe, he'd fucking kill me," she insisted, just the thought lighting a flare of panic and making her pull away, trying to smooth her rumpled hair.

None of this seemed real, even two months after he had walked back into her life – laying out some asshole regular who'd bust the face of some little brunette who, it transpired, had not just been a stripper, but one of the main attractions at the porn studio run by his club. He'd looked better than she'd ever seen him and she'd stood rooted to the spot in shock as he handed out a brutal beat-down in the middle of the dive bar where she worked.

And when he'd straightened up, dashing sweat from his brow with one muscular, bloodied arm, he'd caught sight of her and the look on his face must surely have mirrored her own. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. And in some ways, maybe he had.

She'd tried to stay away, to keep him at arm's length. But, in the end, he was just another addiction she wasn't strong enough to fight.

"Jenn ..." he sighed now, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her short denim skirt and tugging her back into his arms even as an idea struck him. "A motel then. Please. Just somewhere that ain't ... here."

"Anywhere with a bed, huh?"

He frowned at that, leaning down to rest his forehead gently against hers. "Yeah," he said seriously. "Ain't gonna deny it. Anywhere with a bed and a lock on the damn door, so I don't have to keep looking over my shoulder every time I'm with you, wondering if we're gonna get caught and feeling like we're doing something wrong. Anywhere with a bed, so I don't feel like a complete bastard stealing a quick fuck up against a wall. I want to take you to bed, JJ. I want to take my time with you. Make love to you. Fall asleep with you. Wake up with you."

With his strong arms around her waist, her hands on his biceps and her body pressed against his, it was a compelling argument. But the thought that he wanted more than just a screw was both touching and impossible. They'd had their chance and they blew it. Time had moved on.

"Koz ..."

He kissed her again, slow and soft. His mouth caressed hers, making her lips part instinctively to allow his tongue entrance. His hands slipped lower, over the curve of her ass, pulling her even closer. "Stay with me," he whispered, when his lips trailed to her ear. "Please."

She couldn't help smiling at that. "Didn't think big bad bikers said please."

"I can ask nicely," he said, his voice low and husky. "For something I really want."

His mouth claimed hers again for one long, hungry kiss after another, leaving her breathless in his arms and longing to feel him skin-on-skin. The sparks between them were undeniable and suddenly she couldn't quite remember why she was fighting her handsome biker in the first place.

"Motel," she whispered, tracing her fingers over her name on his neck. "One night."

Once an addict, always an addict.


	4. Four

**Four**

"So when Juicey said this Jenn was a dancer, I figured the lad meant exotic," Chibs said, breaking the silence that had fallen in the back of the Teller-Morrow van. He had insisted on joining the impromptu mission to scope out the bars and clubs singled out as the search for their fallen brother's apparently not-so-old flame narrowed and was still getting himself up to speed, sat in the back with Tig and Happy while Juice sat up front to give the prospect directions. "How does a guy like Kozik hook up with a hot wee ballerina in the first place? No offense to Blondie, but I'm gonna guess he didn't find her while taking in Swan Lake or some such shite of an evening ..."

"It helps if the so-called pressure of all that twirling about gets too much and the _hot wee ballerina_ gets herself kicked out of some fancy dance school and into rehab," Tig said dryly, his lip curling in evident distaste.

"And that was how they met? Rehab?"

"Some support group he tried for a while," Tig shrugged. "I warned him it was a bad idea, two addicts together. But would he fucking listen?"

"Would you, if you were getting to dip your dick in some tight little bad-girl dancer?" Chibs questioned, an eyebrow raised knowingly. "Feisty and flexible - come on, man, that's a tasty combination right there ..."

"Until the shit hits the fan. Yeah, yeah, he was like the cat that got the fucking cream in the beginning. But ya know what happens to cream? It turns sour."

* * *

 _ **Ten years earlier**_

"Christ, Koz, I thought you understood!"

"I tried, Jenn – I really fucking tried, but can you seriously blame me for not being cool with this?" he demanded, his fists already clenched as he watched her storm about the bedroom still in those fuck-me heels, all fiery hair and tiny scraps of lace. Angry as he was, he couldn't take his eyes off her and that was only making his temper sky-rocket, knowing she must have had the same effect on every goddamn guy in that shitty club before he'd all but dragged her out of there, barely stopping to let her pull her skirt and shirt on over that goddamn underwear. "I know what those places are like and I don't want that shit for you, babe."

"I _explained_ it to you though. I _told_ you this is my second chance," she ranted, kicking off her shoes and dropping back down all at once to barely reaching his shoulder. "I can't make this kind of money waiting tables or some shit. But if I do this, just for a little while, I could afford to get back into dance school. Not like before - I fucked that up and they'd never take me back. But somewhere. I could start over ..."

"Look, I get that," Kozik insisted, trying to find a way to explain. "That's why I tried to get past it, but come on, Jenn, get real - who the fuck wants to see their girl take her damn clothes off for a bunch of lecherous assholes night after night?"

"And what is it you think I'm going to do, huh?" she demanded, rounding on him with a dangerous glint in those bright green, kohl-lined eyes. "You think some sleazeball stranger's gonna push up on me and what? Come on, Koz, how far do you think your girl's gonna go, huh? Do I let him touch me up? Jack him off in front of everyone?"

"Stop it," Kozik growled, not liking the images she was putting in his head while stood there in that leave-nothing-to-the-imagination electric blue lingerie, giving him exactly the same eyeful as she'd just given a club full of drunks, but also hating that she was deliberately trying to push his buttons. And even more so, hating that he knew that was exactly what she was trying to do and she was still succeeding.

He didn't know whether he wanted to slap the shit out of her or fuck her senseless right there on the floor.

And she just sneered at him as she shook her head, crossing her arms across that infuriatingly enticing display of cleavage. "Nah, we're just talking this shit out like you wanted and now _I_ want to know how little my so-called boyfriend really thinks of me. Because clearly you think this makes me no better than some backstreet hooker, so come on, Kozik – just because I do this to try to pay my way, to try to get something of my old life back, how many of these assholes do you think I'm gonna cheat on you with exactly? Because that's what this bullshit comes down to, isn't it? You think I'm gonna spread my legs and let the first guy who asks _fuck_ me! Shit, Koz, if staying clean turned you into this judgemental prick, maybe I'm glad that's just one more thing I keep fucking up!"

He put his fist to the wall. It was that or her pretty little face and, despite everything else he was capable of, he never wanted to be _that_ guy.

Her eyes widened, but that aside, she barely flinched and, instead, turned on her heel and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and setting him to swearing in earnest over her lack of reaction. Sure, she was fucking furious, but he'd just realised there was still an absence in that gaze that was all-too familiar.

"Are you fucking _high?_ Jenn! Open the motherfucking door, Jenn, or I swear to Christ, I'll put my fucking foot through it!" he raged, barely noticing his shredded knuckles as he slammed his hand flat against the wood. The paranoia, the sudden swings of crazy logic, the temper and yet the almost eerie calm ... It all fell into place.

"Don't you dare, you bastard!" she yelled back, her own temper seeming to really snap judging by the noise coming from the tiny bathroom, leaving him to only assume she was throwing everything in there at the walls. "You're an asshole, Herman Kozik, you know that? I have to trust you, why can't _you_ for once just trust _me?_ "

He could hear the tears in her voice now and it dampened the fire in him just as quickly as she had lit it. Raking a deflated hand through the messy spikes of his hair, he paced the floor, trying to find a way through this shit. Fury he could deal with, but having her upset and crying was a whole other ball game. Especially if something had happened to start her using again and he knew she wouldn't give in to old habits just for shits and giggles. "Open the door, JJ," he sighed, hearing her little wrecking spree continue. "C'mon, babe ..."

"Fuck you!" she all but screamed. "Why do you even care if you just think the same as everyone else? That I'm nothing but some _junkie_ _slut_ ..."

The words rose hysterically only to cut off in a shattering of glass and a wail of pain and fear that chilled him one second and sent him diving for the door the next. "Jenn!" Kozik shouted, wrestling in vain with the handle of the locked door before simply setting his shoulder to it. It only took him two attempts to send it crashing off its hinges.

Despite the get-up and the make-up streaking her face, she looked like a pitiful little girl huddled on the floor when she turned huge tear-filled eyes on him and held out a trembling hand pierced by a huge bloody shard of the mirror that had once hung over the sink.

"Jesus Christ," Kozik swore, dropping to his knees in front of her and taking her injured hand gently in both of his. "Fuck, baby, what did you do? No, no, don't move – let me look ... Shit, JJ, I gotta get this out ..."

But she bore his ministrations with only the tiniest whimpers now, though her shoulders shook with silent sobs and she wouldn't look at him as he slowly and carefully worked out the jagged piece of glass and pressed a towel firmly to the wound to try to stem the bleeding.

"I don't think it'll need stitches. Looked worse than it is, but it's gonna sting like a bitch," he said finally, sitting back to survey the trashed bathroom, the busted door and the blood on the floor, and leaning his head back against the wall in defeat. "Fucking hell, kid."

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks and she swiped at them with the hand not swathed in a towel. "I'm sorry," Jenn whispered. "I ... I'm so fucking stupid."

"Don't say that," he sighed, reaching out to her until she finally crawled onto his lap and he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing kisses into her tangled hair. "What happened, sweetheart?"

"All the stuff you warned me about from the start, you were right all along," she managed, as it all started to tumble out. "I'd never cheat on you, Koz, never. But the other stuff – the other girls, the drugs, the type of guys ... You were right and I didn't want to admit I couldn't handle it, so I lashed out. I thought I was strong enough and that there'd be security to deal with the assholes, but no one gave a shit. This guy literally had his hands in my underwear and no one gave a shit. And I didn't want to give up, so I ... I took something just to get through it. When I saw you ... I just wanted you to take me _home_ , but I couldn't admit I was wrong and I ... I ..."

"Hey, shhh, baby, don't cry," Kozik soothed, torn between wanting to get up and go find the bastard who'd dared lay a finger on his girl and the need to just hold her close and comfort her. "I got you, JJ. I got you."

"I don't know why you put up with my shit," she sniffled, snuggling deeper into his t-shirt clad chest.

"I could say the same to you."

"I'm serious, Koz."

"So am I. You get under my skin like no one else, girl. You're crazy, gorgeous, sweet and you're all fucking _mine_. Besides, it's too late to go get this changed," he said, his serious look turning to a grin as he tilted his head to better show off the ink on his neck. "I love you, baby, and that shit's for life."


	5. Five

**Five**

"How d'ya think she'll take it, this Jenn?"

At the low question from Chibs, Tig dragged himself out of his own thoughts with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he considered. "Fucked if I know, man," he said finally. "I mean, if she's married, maybe the little bitch was only stringing him along anyway ..."

"But you don't believe that."

"Not really," the sergeant admitted. "In between all the self-destructive shit, those two were pretty tight, once upon a time. If it hadn't been for the drugs ... Shit, I guess they coulda been the real deal."

"So what about now, if they both managed to kick the habit? You think whatever wee dalliance they had going on might have been serious?"

Tig looked down at the floor of the van and then shrugged, seeming to steel himself against whatever was running through his mind. "Don't matter, does it?" he said sharply. "Whatever it was, it's done. End of story."

* * *

 _ **Six weeks earlier**_

"Come with me."

Still breathless and shifting onto her back to lay beside him, Jenn pushed her bed-tousled hair back from her face as she gazed up through the darkness at the ceiling of yet another motel. Deep down, she knew this had been on the cards – ever since that first _one night_ spent in his arms. It was never going to be enough. For either of them.

But she had to be realistic. For both of them. So, while she knew exactly what he meant, she still tried in vain to dodge that particular bullet. "I thought I just did," she said, trying to keep it light and hoping he would laugh at her teasing. He didn't.

"I'm serious, JJ," Kozik said, sounding like he was on the verge of saying something more before cutting himself off with a sigh and throwing back the covers to climb out of bed. "I ... Fuck, forget I said anything."

But how could she when her charismatic, loud-mouthed biker suddenly sounded so down? She never could stand seeing him like that, especially when it was her fault. "Koz," she tried, sitting up wrapped in the sheets to lay a gentle hand on his inked back as he sat there with his head in his hands. "You know I wish it was that easy."

"Why can't it be, huh?"

"You know why," she said softly.

And he did, she knew that. But knowing wasn't the same as accepting, and he pulled away to tug on his boxers and his jeans, digging in the pockets for his smokes before heading for the sliding door to the tiny balcony – leaving her all alone in the big double-bed.

It wasn't like she hadn't considered other options, or she didn't want to. _Of course_ , she did. But, much as she wanted to, she couldn't get lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to have this all the time. She just couldn't.

She couldn't help reaching to fish for his t-shirt though, snagging it from the floor and pulling it over her head before padding barefoot to join him. She tried to find the right words, failed, and simply slipped her arms around his waist, pressing a tiny kiss to his shoulder.

"I'd never let him hurt you, Jenn," Kozik said, his voice rough as he stared out across the lot. "Either of you."

"I know ..."

"Do you? Fucking _leave_ him then," he insisted, stubbing out his cigarette on the railing and turning to face her with those blue eyes blazing. "Just pack your shit and get the hell out. You shouldn't be with some asshole you're scared of. You don't have to be."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, caressing his cheek with her hand and making the angry lines of his face soften as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Don't be sorry, baby. Just say you'll be with me. And I swear, he'll never lay a hand on you. I won't let him."

"He doesn't have to touch me to hurt me, Koz. You know it and he knows it. You're asking me to gamble with the most precious thing in my whole world. I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't."

"Then what are we doing here, darlin'?" Kozik asked, no anger and only something close to regret in his voice.

Jenn looked up at him, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes as she drank in the sight of him. "You're keeping me from drowning again," she said softly. "And I guess maybe I'm ... saying goodbye."

She could see everything he was feeling flit across his face as he stared her down, his jaw set tightly. Hurt, anger, frustration. But, all at once, that all cleared to leave sheer determination and he shook his head. "No."

"Koz ..."

"No," he insisted. "No fucking way am I letting you walk out of my life again, you hear me? I lost you once and, I dunno, maybe we needed that back then. A wake-up call or some shit. But I ain't that person anymore. I ain't drifting into this blind, just doing whatever's easy. I'm wide awake, JJ, and I know what I'm doing. What I'm getting into. I want you with me, simple as that. You and that little girl. I'd never let anyone take her from you, babe. I know it could get rough and I know I'm far from perfect, but ... Jesus, Jenn, I _love_ you. And she's part of you, so I promise you I'll love her like she's mine. Because _you're_ mine. Always have been, always will be."

Stunned into silence by the depth of his emotional outburst and flushed under the heat of his gaze, Jenn floundered for any kind of response as he advanced on her slowly but surely, backing her against the wall. And before she could find any words at all, he had curled his fingers into the soft material of the t-shirt she had borrowed and tugged it off one lightly tanned shoulder. She didn't have to look to know he had uncovered the gracefully soaring black crow, forever captured mid-flight just below her collarbone.

"Rings come off, darlin'. That shit's for life," Kozik told her.

She didn't know whether that echoing of his own words from all that time ago was intentional or not, but she didn't care either. She could see he meant it every bit as much now as he had back then. She'd have to be blind not to see that. Her arms were wrapping around his neck even before his mouth found hers again.

Maybe, just maybe, their story wasn't over after all.

Maybe there was still a way out.


	6. Six

**Six**

Jenn flinched first in response to the heavy hand that smacked her ass in what she supposed was meant to pass for playfulness from her customer, and then at the shockwave even that slight moment sent through her battered body, forcing herself to smile through gritted teeth.

Joe had almost had enough self-control to avoid leaving any visible marks. Almost. The slap that had whipped her head violently to the side left her cheekbone black and blue, but fortunately not shattered and she had been able to cover the worst of it with make-up. The same could not be said for her ribs and thighs, but at least she could dress to hide that much. Working through the pain was another matter and she was suddenly terrified that the craving for something to take the edge off would grow and grow until she could no longer fight it.

Then she had to contend with the ongoing battle to hold back the tears that would well up every time the flashbacks of that night wormed their way out of the box in her mind she thought she had locked them in. Any time she let her mind dwell on it all for more than a second, that felt like a fight she couldn't win.

And it wasn't the memory of his blind rage that got to her, horrible though that was. It wasn't the echo of that white-hot pain that had seared through her with every kick of his boot, not really. It wasn't even the humiliation of ending up broken and used on the bathroom floor. Not that she didn't feel sick at the thought of it.

No, what really killed her was the haunting memory of hearing her beautiful little girl crying, no doubt scared and upset by her father's loud and foul-mouthed fury and her mother's pleading sobs. Jenn hated that she hadn't even been able to go straight to her when Joe had finally rebuckled the belt of his jeans and stormed out of the house, slamming every door in his path before climbing into his truck and taking off in a shower of gravel. No, she couldn't so much as comfort her daughter until she had found the strength to climb to her feet in agony, choked back her own tears, cleaned herself up and hidden the worst of it all under sweatpants and a t-shirt.

She should have packed their shit and hightailed out of there right then, she knew that. But every step, every _breath_ , had been enough to make stars dance in front of her eyes. And while Joe had driven off in his truck, he had also taken the keys of her beat-up little car.

She could have called Kozik and, despite every mile between them, he would have been there in a heartbeat - probably every bit as furious as her so-called husband, but with not a shred of that anger directed at her. But, stupid as she knew it was, she couldn't help feeling so very ashamed that she had let it come to this. And, even once she had managed to wrestle with that in her own mind, Joe was back and already making it crystal clear he would put a bullet in the head of the first person she called that dared to interfere in their business.

How could she have let her guard down like that? They had practically been asking to get caught out. Months of sneaking around had made it all seem to easy and the temptation to just be _normal_ had been too much. Neither of them had ever had much willpower ... And yet, she couldn't quite bring herself to regret it.

The memory of her usually quiet little girl giggling happily while sat in the crook of Kozik's elbow as he carried her across the play-park to the swings, was one she'd never forget. That man had showered Lexie with more attention and affection in one single afternoon than her own father had in her whole life, and all with the biggest smile on his handsome face.

"Not getting bored of all this domestic shit yet?" she'd teased, out of earshot of the little girl toddling along between them, clinging to their hands and squealing with delight at the fearless ducks that came to investigate.

Kozik hadn't even tried to joke about it, simply turning to her with a sparkle in the blue eyes below his baseball cap that warmed her heart and made her stomach flip. "You have _no_ idea how much I want this, JJ," he'd told her, his voice low and rough.

Right then, she couldn't have resisted that stolen kiss if her life had depended on it. Or even if she had known they hadn't quite gone far enough from home to escape the knowing gaze of someone who would recognise her - someone who would take great delight in telling Joe Gardiner his little slut of a wife was having an affair right under his nose.

In the grand scheme of everything that had happened between them over the last few months, it was almost nothing. A fleeting little brush of warm lips, a shared look that made her cheeks flush, and then Lexie was tugging at their jeans in the hope that mommy's new friend would pick her up again. Of course Kozik was only too happy to oblige, scooping the little girl up easily with one arm and then reaching with his free hand for Jenn's. In that moment, with her fingers laced through his and her head on his shoulder, everything had seemed just perfect.

She should have known it was all too good to be true ...

The heavy hand came down on her ass again as she set another round of beers on the table, only this time, it stayed there. Inwardly, she grimaced, but she knew better than to shake off the relentless caress. She knew from experience that would only make things worse.

"Think the little lady likes me, boys," the owner of said hand guffawed, bringing it down in another smack.

With a tight smile, Jenn glanced down at him and fought the urge to smash the drinks tray into his disgusting face. She never had understood why Joe didn't object to her working in such a dive, full of creeps just like this one, when under normal circumstances, his temper flared if another man so much as glanced in her direction.

"Anything else I can get you?" she managed.

"Oh, I'm sure you can think of something ..." came the suggestive drawl, right before a big arm curled around her waist and hauled her down onto his lap, making her gasp at the flare of pain through her ribs even as she felt him grind up against her ass as his buddies laughed and cheered. "You like that, huh? Wanna go somewhere we can bend that tight ass over and-"

"Get. Your hands. Off. Me," Jenn ground out, feeling sick and not entirely sure whether it was due to her aching body or the mere thought of what he wanted from her.

"Playing hard to get, eh?" he laughed. "You don't fool me, you little cock-tease."

"I said _get off me!_ " she tried, panicking now and no longer caring if she drew attention or sparked his temper as she struggled off his lap and tried to break free of his grip. She was sure she'd had worse than anything he'd dare to throw at her in public, even if her frantic glances found no one prepared to step in. In a shithole like this, it would take a lot more for anyone to even raise an eyebrow – although, out of the corner of her eye, she did spot one man nudge another before heading in their direction.

"You little bitch, you always did look like a feisty one," her unwanted admirer said. "I like that."

"Then you're gonna love me ..." came a strangely familiar voice, right before a heavily ringed fist connected with that leering face. "Hey, Red."


	7. Seven

**A/N: Apologies for the unexpectedly longer than usual delay - real life has a way of getting complicated ... As always, thanks for reading. T x**

* * *

 **Seven**

"She's quiet."

"Too fucking quiet," Tig muttered, glancing into the back of the van where the girl sat staring blindly into space and ignoring the best efforts of Chibs to offer some kind of comfort.

He'd recognised her straight away, especially that distinctive dyed red hair, but he could see she had changed. No longer the skinny, strung-out mess who'd fled Charming before he could make good on his threats, despite the passing years she was actually much more like the girl his brother had first fallen for – albeit without that same spark, right now at least. That was hardly surprising, all things considered, but he still thought he could see why Kozik had allowed himself to get reeled right back in.

"Probably in shock," Happy shrugged, although there was anger in his dark eyes. "You see how she's holdin' herself though? Girl's taken a helluva beat-down."

"Saw it," Tig nodded. "The face too, under the make-up. Husband?"

"Bastard's got form."

"Think Koz knew?"

Happy shook his head. "No chance. Not that bad. Blondie'd have been round there to boot the door in and end that shit long before now."

Even as they watched, she wiped her hands over her face and took a deep, shuddering breath that clearly caused her pain. "Tell me again," she asked, still avoiding meeting Chibs' concerned eyes as he sat opposite her.

"Listen, love," the Scotsman tried gently. "I don't think ..."

"Please."

With a helpless look towards his brothers, Chibs sighed and leaned forward to still her fidgeting hands with his. "It all happened so fast, pet. There was nothin' we could do. One step out o' place and ... He wouldn't have felt a thing, I promise ya that much. He was just ... gone."

"Gone," Jenn echoed faintly, but it seemed like the word held no real meaning for her. Not yet. All too soon though, they could see her start to crumple in front of them. "How can he be gone?" she managed. "It's not _fair_."

"Aye, we know. We know," Chibs murmured, squeezing her fingers as tears slipped down her pale cheeks. "Ah, lass, ya look like you've already been through the wars ..."

"I should have left when I had the chance," she whispered, almost as if she hadn't even heard him. "With Koz. But ... I was never any good for him. I know that. It was always me dragging him down ... Even after all this time, I knew he meant it when he said he loved me, but I was too scared to be with him. God, I wanted to, but I just ... And now ... Now, it's too late. Too late to tell him how much I loved him too ..."

As she broke down, even the battle-hardened biker opposite her couldn't help but flinch at the raw anguish in the cries she tried to choke back, ducking his salt-and-pepper head to hide his own emotions and swallowing a lump in his throat.

* * *

"Break a fucking heart o' stone, wouldn't it?" Chibs said, pitching the butt of his smoke to the ground and scuffing it out under the toe of his boot as he leaned against the side of the van. "We seriously gonna just let her go back to this bastard husband?"

"You heard her," Tig shrugged, his hard blue eyes staring off into the distance, even in the fading light. "Says she has to. Ain't gonna argue."

"Aye, I heard her," the Scotsman said, with a frown. "I heard a wee lass scared for her kiddie. She don't want to go back there, man – not to him. As far as I can see, the only reason she ain't already been happily shacked up wi' Blondie is that no-good son o' a bitch terrifying her into thinking he'll take her little 'un away!"

"And what exactly is it you think we can do about that, huh? You think we ain't got enough trouble at our door without some asshole going to the cops claiming SAMCRO abducted his wife and kid?"

"That prick beat the bloody shite outta her ..."

"For screwing some other guy!" Tig snapped. "Mighta knocked some sense into her myself if I was in his shoes."

That might have been true of any of them, if they were honest, but Chibs was already shaking his head. "Not just some other guy. Kozik. Our _brother_. And he'd want us to look out for her."

"Yeah? Well, he ain't here, so he don't get a goddamn say. And if you wanna go adopting every stray piece of ass Koz ever tapped, good luck - we're gonna need a bigger clubhouse."

"Come on, she's more than that and you know it, Tigger. You said it yourself. _Real deal_ , remember?"

"You always this big a bleeding heart or is it that time of the fucking month?" Tig snorted, turning on his heel and coming face-to-face with the redhead herself – a stricken look crossing her tear-stained face.

"Don't mind him, love," Chibs sighed. "Tigger ain't ever been what you'd exactly call tactful."

* * *

Have left Juice and the prospect to clear up the mess made by the impromptu brawl they'd instigated, and appease the bar owner to stop him calling the cops on their asses, Tig pulled the van up in front of the house Jenn apparently shared with her husband and their daughter. Though his jaw tensed at the sight of the place, he didn't move from the driver's seat, leaving Chibs to open the rear door and climb out, tucking his gun into the back of his jeans to offer a free hand to help their unexpected passenger down. Happy followed without a word.

"You sure there ain't somewhere else we can take you? Someone we can call?" the Scotsman asked, looking unsurely between the porch and the young woman by his side. He could see she was trembling and he couldn't help wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, you don't have to go in there."

But, seeming to steel herself, Jenn tried to force a tearful smile for him. "Yeah, I do," she said softly, catching him off-guard when she turned into his chest for a hug. "Thank you for telling me about Koz. Look after Tig – I know he loved him too."

She didn't look back as they watched her go.

"What now?" Happy asked, missing the realisation that suddenly dawned on his brother's scarred face.

"Get Tig," Chibs said. "Sneaky wee bitch nicked me gun."


	8. Eight

**Eight**

"You let some broad take your gun?" Tig groaned.

It was late by now and already the last place the put-upon sergeant wanted to be was caught in the middle of some fucking domestic, all because of his brother's not-so-ex girl. Potentially adding SAMCRO bullets into the mix was a complication that pressed on his last nerve.

"Let? What is this _let_ shite?" Chibs protested. "Ain't like she bleedin' well asked permission! Christ, I'm starting to see how she musta given Blondie the run-around back in the day. Why are the lookers always bat-shit crazy?"

"Price we gotta pay, brother," Tig sighed, even as he assessed the dilapidated house in front of them. "You think the husband's home?"

"Well, I hope not, but I'm figurin' form suggests we ain't that bloody lucky."

"Sweet baby Jesus, as if that volatile little bitch wasn't enough of a pain in the ass as a grief-addled mess without packing heat."

"Your compassion does you credit, Tiggy," Chibs said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't you start giving me shit. This is _your_ fault, asshole. Ah, c'mon, ain't no point standing here with our thumbs up our asses. We'll take the front. Hap, you head round the back. Let's shut this shit down quick ..."

* * *

It had been almost too easy, leaning in to hug the kindly Scotsman and deftly slipping the gun from the waistband of his jeans. He'd be furious, she knew that, and probably cursing his own carelessness, but she'd been a functioning addict for long enough to pick up more than a few illicit skills. Liberating a gun was actually easier than lifting a wallet from a pocket and there had once been a time when she hadn't been above doing that either. Not that she was proud of it, but if anything her need now was much greater and the stakes infinitely higher.

She didn't have a plan. Hadn't thought through taking the piece, let alone what she was going to do with it when she had it. But it was there and she seized the fleeting opportunity before it was too late.

She already felt the first pangs of guilt for abusing Chibs' kindness. Just like she'd always regretted it with Kozik.

But now she was padding quietly across her little home with the Glock gripped in shaky fingers. Koz carried one just like it. Or at least he had. That correction caught her breath in her throat and she faltered, closing her eyes against tears that sprang up unbidden. The thought of him being truly gone was too much to bear. Even still, she couldn't help but wonder what he would say if he could read her thoughts now. If he would understand. If she could actually go through with it, for that matter, if that was where things were headed.

She hadn't needed to before.

He had always spared her from that ...

* * *

 _ **Ten years earlier**_

"Jenn, what the hell's going on?"

Torn between relief and dismay as she realised much too late that she must have been followed, she glanced around wild-eyed, but the barrel of the gun never moved from its target. The borrowed weapon trembled in her two-handed grasp, but the aim stayed true. More or less.

And maybe, just maybe, she could still put things right.

"Bitch is fucking loco," the gangbanger crumpled in the corner of the grotty basement apartment all but spat, clutching his ankle as blood seeped through his jeans and stained his fingers. "Shot my goddamn _leg_. You better be here to rein her in, man."

"Santino? Jesus Christ ..."

"Koz, I can explain-"

"Explain!" The biker looked at her in disbelief, with anger and underlying confusion vying for room to etch themselves across his face. "Holy shit, are you out of your goddamn mind here? You took my fucking gun, Jenn – you _shot_ someone!"

"I _had_ to! Please, Koz, just listen," she begged, even as her target lurched to his feet. " _Please._ "

Unsteady as he was, Santino Reyes narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice to a warning growl. "Shut this shit down, Kozik. Shut this down or you know I will."

"I screwed up again," Jenn blurted out, her hair falling from her ponytail and into her wide, pleading green eyes. "I know I did and that's my fault. And I should have told you, I should. But this was worse than the coke and I just didn't and I'm sorry. But then he said I owed him. He ... Koz, he tried to make me ..."

Bullet wound or not, held at gunpoint or not, the gangbanger lunged at the babbling young woman in front of him only to be sent sprawling as a solid knee caught him squarely in the midriff and knocked the wind out of him.

"Tried to make you what?" Kozik asked, as if she hadn't been interrupted, his voice tight and his fists clenched.

Coughing and spluttered as he fought for air, Santino still managed to laugh. "You're really gonna buy this hysterical bullshit? Bitch sure got your balls in a vice, _esé_."

"Tried to make you _what_ , Jenn?" the biker repeated.

She bit her lip and couldn't quite dare to look at him. "He got me the smack, then said he'd tell you unless ... unless I ... I'm so sorry, Koz."

"Unless what?"

She took a deep breath. "Unless I f-fucked him."

"You think I need that little puta?" Santino scoffed. "You need to stop your girl chasing that dragon if she's gonna get her shit so twisted up, Kozik. You think the Sons would want you around with a liability like that in your bed?"

Wiping a weary hand over his face, Kozik stepped forward and reached for Jenn's sleeve, watching as a tear slipped down her cheek while she still kept his gun trained on her target. He tugged the soft material upwards until he reached the fresh track marks and then let it fall again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but he ignored her. His hand almost seemed to caress hers as he reached this time for the Glock.

"Give me the gun."

She couldn't tell if he believed her or not and to her, right then, that was all that mattered. That he believed her. Because if only he had gotten there sooner, he wouldn't even have to take her word. He would know for sure. Because he would have seen that drug-pushing bastard on top of her, fumbling with his belt as he tried to keep her pinned down in those frantic moments before she could free the gun from its hiding place. She could still practically feel his hot breath on her neck. Hear his rasping threats in her ear, as he ground out everything he wanted to do to her and everything he'd make her do to him.

 _Gonna make you scream for me, chica ... Gonna fuck that tight little pussy 'til you beg me to stop ..._

"Koz ..."

"Give me the damn gun."

Slowly, she let her hands give way to his, trying to hold back a sob at the hard look in the blue eyes of the man she loved and knew she had let down yet again. She'd tried so hard to stay clean, for him, but ... She'd been crawling out of her skin, going out of her mind, trying to hold on. Until she'd finally let go.

His fingers replaced hers and, clearly deeming the threat to have passed, Santino moved to climb to his feet again. "That's what the fuck I'm talking about," he muttered, shooting them both a black look.

"Sit your motherfucking ass down," Kozik said, keeping the gun levelled at the gangbanger.

"Aww, fuck. What's this shit now? You better not be serious, man, or I swear Big Daddy Clay's gonna hear all about your girl's taste for H. You saw what she fucking did to me – someone's gonna pay big time, biker boy."

"I saw," Kozik said. "I saw _every-fucking-thing._ "

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

Jenn's grip on the gun tightened at the sound of approaching footsteps. Lost in memories as she had been, it was all too easy to remember the stunned dealer's face in the split second before Kozik coolly put a bullet in his head. She should have been terrified at what he'd brought on them both by way of revenge from Santino's gang, and part of her was, but all that had really mattered had been the fact that, after everything, he still had her back.

Oh, he'd been furious about the drugs and rightly so. But he knew the truth and, more than anything, he'd been horrified by what he'd witnessed before he'd made his presence known and hurt she hadn't gone to him when she ended up, once again, way out of her depth. Her tearful confession that she hated herself for fucking up over and over, for constantly needing him to fix her messes, had only drawn his arms around her and made him promise he'd always be there no matter what.

Only now he was gone and she was on her own.

And yet the fact that she was drowning in yet another mess of her own making paled into insignificance compared with how her heart ached for the handsome biker taken from her much too soon. In that second – even as those footsteps drew closer and a figure filled the doorway of the kitchen – she regretted every single second she had wasted not being with him once they got their second chance.

"The fuck you doin' back at this time?"

Joe.

"You gonna answer me, or you want me to loosen that tongue?"

"Where's Lexie?" Jenn managed, somehow ignoring her husband's thinly veiled threat and taking a step towards the hallway. The gun felt heavy in her hand, down by her leg and out of immediate sight.

"Did I fucking stutter? Don't you move until you answer me, dammit."

He'd clearly been drinking, but that wasn't exactly news these days. When he wasn't working, he was rarely fully sober and he was working less and less. Even the usual suspects who'd have thrown jobs his way were steering clear, given his increasingly short fuse.

"I need to check on my daughter," she tried to insist, assuming the little girl was tucked up safe in bed and praying she was still fast asleep and blissfully oblivious. She realised her mistake almost immediately.

"Your daughter? Don't you mean _our_ daughter? Or should I take that to mean you've been spreading those legs like the slut you are long before now, huh? _Fucking answer me!_ " he roared.

"Jesus, Joe, you're going to wake her," Jenn said, anguished at the thought of Lexie witnessing this when she'd tried so hard to shelter her from the worst of his temper.

"Maybe I don't give a fuck if the brat ain't even mine. Let me guess, that biker bastard weren't so keen when he realised he'd knocked up his little whore ..."

"God, I wish you were right!" she burst out, and to hell with the consequences. "I'd give _anything_ for Koz to be that little girl's dad - because an asshole like you doesn't fucking deserve her!"

All but blinded by angry tears, she never even saw it coming until it was too late. In one swift move, he'd fisted a hand in her hair and then slammed her face-first into the nearest wall, swearing up a storm when she slumped to the floor and the gun fell from her hand to skid across the tiles. Blood poured from her temple as she tried to reach for it, only for pain to explode through her ribs. Joe hauled his foot back for another kick.

"Mommy?"

"Lexie, no ..." Jenn ground out, devastated to hear that little voice and desperate to shield her daughter from the clusterfuck unfolding in their kitchen. "Baby, go back to bed."

But the little girl stood rooted to the spot, one hand clutching the paw of her beloved teddy and her free thumb heading instinctively for her mouth as her lip trembled unsurely. "Mommy hurt?"

"C'mere, kid," Joe said suddenly.

White-cold terror overtook red-hot agony as his gloating eyes locked with his wife's.

"No," Jenn tried, gasping in fresh pain as she tried to force herself up from the floor, desperately pleading with him and yet trying to keep her voice too low for Lexie to hear. "Joe, please. Don't you hurt her, don't you dare."

He made a grab for his daughter even as she fled with a scared little squeal, giving her mother the tiniest chance and one she had no choice but to take. It was his turn to realise his mistake, turning to dive instead - as she had - for the gun. She was crying. He was laughing. Hands closed on steel, came up, fired.

He was still laughing when the bullet tore through his throat, his brain only catching up as he choked on the blood that bubbled up between the fingers that clutched at his gaping wound.

Instead of panicking, she felt as if a weight had lifted off her shoulders and then, just as they had all those years before, strong fingers slipped down her arm to ease the gun from her death-grip.

"K-Koz ..."

"It's over, doll," Tig said. "I got this."


	9. Nine

**A/N: Just a quick wee thank you to those still reading and sending messages - I know I haven't been around as much, but I do appreciate it and I love hearing what you think. T x**

* * *

 **Nine**

Chibs downed a long slug of his beer to hide the grin that tugged at the scarred corners of his mouth. "What?" he managed innocently, in response to a dark look from the sergeant gingerly depositing a Barbie doll on the bar.

"It was in my bed," Tig scowled.

"Hey, what you get up to in your spare time is no business of ours, brother ..."

"That's perverse."

"Christ on a bicycle, you _do_ have boundaries!" Chibs declared before giving in to laughter. "Oh, come on, _Uncle Tigger_ , quit pouting and just admit it – you like having the wee lass around."

"Her, maybe I don't mind. The rest of you can go fuck yourselves." But the sharp retort belied the warmth that sparkled into life in the biker's eyes as he turned just in time to catch the small figure barrelling straight for him.

"Uncle Tigger, Uncle Tigger!" came the happy squeal as he swung the little girl high in the air and then settled her in his arms.

"Hey, sugar," he said, glancing round as if defying anyone to make anything of it. "Where's your mom?"

"Sleeping," Lexie said, that glimmer of a bright smile fading as quickly as it had appeared. "Mommy sleeps a lot."

"Your mamma's just tired, pet," Chibs said, exchanging a look with his brother over their young charge's head as he patted her sneaker-clad foot. "How about I go check in on her while you keep your Uncle Tigger here out of mischief, yeah?"

"'Kay. I could get my dolls and we could have a tea party!" she suggested, wriggling out of Tig's arms in her excitement and running to retrieve her Barbie from the bar.

"Or we could dip ourselves in honey and feed ourselves to the fire ants," the appalled biker muttered beneath his breath, before quickly calling out to stop the little girl in her tracks. "Lexie, why don't we leave Barbie right there, baby, and ... go see if we can find Nana Gemma?"

"Not the first blonde to be abandoned at that bar, as I recall," Chibs smirked, having watched the little exchange in bemusement before heading for the dorms, his parting shot fired over his shoulder. "Oh and Gem's gonna gut you like a fish if you keep calling her Nana, brother ..."

Eyeing the miniature plastic bimbo now seated, legs akimbo, beside an empty beer glass on top of the bar, Tig shuddered. "I'll take my chances."

* * *

Gentle fingers trailed through the waves of her hair and she sighed wistfully.

"Nah, come on, hear me out," that low voice murmured in her ear.

"It's just a dream ..."

"So? Listen, just picture it ... Picture it ... You, me, Lexie ... Living by the sea somewhere ... Anywhere ... Sun, sand, surf ... Lazy days on the beach, just the three of us ... Can you picture it?"

She could. She really could. Golden rays of sunshine warming her skin, the salt spray of the sea tangling her hair, and his hand laced through hers, pale sand shifting beneath their bare feet.

Those fingers slipped from her hair, caressing her cheek, grazing a path down to her collarbone and beyond as that husky voice still whispered in her ear.

"Just keep drifting, darlin' ... Picture it ... Lazy days in the sun, just the three of us ... And all those nights under the stars, just the two of us ... You and me ... Blanket on the sand, waves lapping at our feet ..."

A soft smile tugged at her lips at the feel of those fingers trailing slow and feather-light over her stomach.

"Maybe working on making it the four of us ..."

* * *

She could have sworn she felt his lips on hers, right in the moment before she drifted out of sleep and into wakefulness, her eyes flying open even as her stomach lurched and she scrambled out of bed. In just her sweat pants and tank top, she flew past a startled Chibs, stood outside the door as he was - his hand raised to knock when she yanked it open and dashed for the nearest bathroom.

"Jesus," he swore, seeming to think twice but then following her anyway. "Jenn? Jenny, ya okay, love?"

Tears stung at her eyes as she wretched violently, reaching the toilet just in time to throw up what little she had eaten over the last twenty-four hours and, in her mind, only adding to her utter humiliation. It was bad enough that Tig knew what a mess she had been in her using days, but now here she was, after all this time, still a mess.

And a mess that had allowed herself to be used and beaten black and blue by a man she had married.

With a sob, she reached for some toilet paper to wipe her mouth, only for it to be handed to her by the kindly Scotsman who slid an arm around her to help her to her feet and over to the wash basin where she rinsed out her mouth and splashed cold water on her face. But fresh tears slipped down her cheeks as soon as she met his sympathetic gaze in the mirrored front of the little cabinet on the wall.

"I killed him," Jenn whispered, even as her stomach rolled again.

"You _survived_ him," Chibs corrected her firmly.

She closed her eyes at that, leaning heavily on the wash basin for support. This wasn't how getting away from Joe was supposed to go. Not at all.

No seaside paradise with the man she loved, just a rough-and-ready clubhouse haunted by his ghost.

"Where's Lexie?" she managed, trying to fight back the waves of nausea that still threatened.

"Safe. With Tig. And those two things aren't as contradictory as ya might think," Chibs said, with a wry smile. "Listen, you just focus on getting your own head straight – the wee lass is doin' just fine, but she needs her mamma."

"Some _mamma_ I've been ..."

Those usually warm brown eyes glared over her shoulder at her reflection when she glanced up, but she continued to rage against herself undeterred.

"I've done nothing good for that little girl since the day she was born. She'd be better off without me. I mean, I've done some messed up shit in my time, but look at the man I allowed to be her father - what the hell was I even thinking?! I've been so stupid. So fucking weak. I should have left him years ago. Jesus, I thought being a junkie stripper was bad, but look at what I've become – what I've done!" Her voice wavered and she paled again. "Oh my god, look at what I've _done_ ..."

"Mother o' mercy," Chibs growled, his voice rising in a flare of frustration. "What you've done? You listen to me, lass, and you listen good. Now you two ain't had it easy, I admit, but the way I see it, the kiddie's here and she's safe and loved and happy. You did everything you could to do the best for her. And if that ain't enough, well, then there ain't a fit parent on this godforsaken planet. You _loved_ her. You _fought_ for her. And aye, you damn well _killed_ for her. And now you gotta get right with that – for _her_. You hear me? You're that wee girl's fucking _world_. You're all she's got!"

Jenn stared at him, taken aback by the outburst and yet still too emotionally fragile not to be moved to fresh tears that she had to wipe from her cheeks with the back of her hand as she tried to nod in understanding.

The biker, seeming momentarily awkward after his spark of fire, reached to turn her around and dabbed gently beneath her eyes with the soft sleeve of his shirt pulled down over his hand, tucking a stray lock of hair from her messy ponytail back behind her ear.

"She's all I've got too," Jenn said, so soft it almost went unheard, taking a deep breath that hitched in her chest even as she dropped her gaze to his. "I won't let her down. I promise."

A glimmer of a smile crossed Chibs' scarred face, although it went unseen.

"I know, lass. I know."


	10. Ten

**Ten**

 _ **Ten years earlier**_

"How could you be so damn stupid?"

Jenn rounded on him at that, the look on her tear-stained face incredulous. "Are you shitting me right now? How could _I_ be so stupid? Me? Like you had _nothing_ to do with it!"

The biker clenched his jaw in frustration, his blue eyes blazing out of dark circles as he stared her down. "I didn't mean _that_. I meant why the hell didn't you tell me instead of sneaking around?"

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"A little fucking last minute, don't you think?" Kozik snapped, raking a hand through the spikes of his hair. His mind was racing, his heart too, even as the rest of the world seemed to have slipped into slow-motion and he eyed her as if expecting to see some visible sign of what she was telling him. "Jesus Christ, JJ. Jesus Christ."

She snorted wryly through her tears, tugging closed the denim shirt she had been wearing open over her simple black tank top and ripped black jeans in an unconscious gesture of self-consciousness. "Good to know where you stand, Koz," she managed, before turning on her heel.

The bathroom door was slamming in his face before he could get a word and he groaned in frustration as he leaned his forehead against it and closed his eyes. Her shutting him out, both literally and figuratively, was nothing new. Remembering what had happened the last time she locked herself in, he was glad they hadn't gotten round to replacing the mirror, even if it didn't sound like she was hell-bent on trashing the place this time.

"Jenn," he tried, finding himself lost for what to say for the best. "Shit."

Slumping down at the foot of the door they had been forced to replace, he simply sat there with his head tilted back against the wood and his eyes closed. Trying to ignore how every inch of him cried out for a hit of ... something. Anything. There were only two ways this thing was going to resolve itself and he might have let himself imagine the worst – only he didn't know what that was right now.

There was still nothing but silence from the other side of the door.

"Jenn," he tried again, not really expecting an answer. "How long?"

Silence, at least at first. "Three minutes."

He swallowed hard at those soft words from her side of their divide. Three minutes. Three minutes before their lives potentially got flipped on their heads.

Holy shit.

* * *

Sat by the bar nursing a strong black coffee as he skimmed through a newspaper, Chibs would have tried to deny the double-take when their unplanned guest re-emerged from the dorms. He couldn't help but admire her strength though. The broken, beaten down girl they'd brought here, not knowing what else to do with her, had seemed ready to stay curled under a duvet for as long as they'd let her. And he couldn't even really say he blamed her, all things considered.

But, while clearly still in shock over the shit that had gone down with the bastard she called a husband, and obviously grieving over Kozik, it nonetheless seemed that she was already determined to make good on her promise. He certainly hadn't expected such swift progress on that front – although he suspected _front_ may have been the operative word.

He watched her hesitate as she glanced around from the doorway and noted the way she took a breath before forcing her head up and crossing the clubhouse to join him, almost hiding the pain of her injuries with the feigned confidence in her stride. Almost.

"Feelin' better, pet?" Chibs asked, setting down his paper and pushing a free stool towards her with his foot, his earlier conversation with Jax already weighing heavily on his mind as he steeled himself for what lay ahead.

"No," Jenn admitted, with a blunt honesty, as she sat down. "But I figured trying to hide away wasn't exactly going to help, so ... here I am. Just trying."

He eyed her cautiously, taking in the faded blue jeans and white cotton tank under an oversized plaid shirt he suspected might have been Kozik's, the long red hair brushed into soft waves and held back from her face with a knotted bandana, and the bruises almost hidden under her make-up. Knowing green eyes met his. "And ..."

"And still clean," she said evenly, a wry little smile greeting his apologetic grimace. "No, no, it's okay. I get it. I mean, your doctor friend wanted to give me something for the pain and I was too scared to accept - even though I don't think she meant, like, Oxy - so you get to have your doubts."

"It's gotta be tough. All this shite fallin' on your shoulders at once," Chibs said, signalling to the prospect behind the bar for a coffee for her and a top-up for him.

She inhaled deeply, wincing just a little and letting her eyes drift closed for a second, opening them to wrap her hands gratefully around the steaming mug now in front of her. "Yeah. It's ... a lot," Jenn managed. "Doesn't seem real. I guess I never really thought I'd actually get away from Joe, let alone ... you know."

"But you just did what you had to and now here you are. And you ain't gonna have to worry about that asshole ever again," Chibs said, realising his mistake in second-guessing her focus as soon as fresh tears threatened.

"I know," she said, trying her best to blink them back. "But ... I just ... Anytime I did let myself think it could happen, even if it was just for a second ..."

"You thought Kozik would be there," Chibs sighed. "Ah, love, I'm so damn sorry."

"Me too," she said, those tears slipping down her cheeks, making him reach out to brush them away with the pad of his thumb. "Shit, sorry. So much for trying to tough it out."

"You don't have to. Not like that anyway," the biker tried. "I mean, yeah, you gotta keep going for yourself and your kiddie. But you're allowed to grieve, Jenn. Losing him the way we did, we might not show it, but it's been rough on all of us - Jesus, lass, cut yourself some slack."

Wiping beneath her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, she forced down a gulp of coffee and visibly tried to get it together. "God, Chibs, if you knew ... I threw away so many second chances with him."

A wry, yet sympathetic smile crinkled the corners of his eyes and he reached out to gently tip her face back up from her lap. "That may be, darlin', but it doesn't sound like it ever changed how he felt about you."

"I think that makes it harder," she confessed. "Knowing what we could have had. I ... I told Joe I wished Koz was Lexie's dad. Probably not my smartest move, but part of me wishes I'd done it years ago."

Chibs eyed her sharply. "Hang on ..."

Realising what he was thinking, she shook her head. "No, he wasn't. But he could have been. Joe may have been her biological father, but he was never a dad to that little girl – not like Koz wanted to be. And even in such a short space of time, he was so good with her. I should have known he would be."

"You two ever think about having kids when you were together back in the day?"

She managed a smile at that, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Two messed up junkies in and out of rehab? Not a good idea. And we both knew it. Although that didn't stop me picking a fight with him over it. We ... We, uh, kinda had a false alarm and it scared the shit outta Koz. Okay, that's probably not the right way to put it – I don't think Koz was ever _scared_ of anything. But it definitely rattled him. He was the kid of an addict and he never wanted to end up like his dad, so still using and potentially having a baby on the way ... Yeah, it threw him for a loop."

"And you?" Chibs asked, his fingers toying absently with the silver cross around his neck, his thoughts drifting to the world he had brought his own daughter into.

"I was terrified," Jenn admitted. "I knew I couldn't cope, not back then, not even if Koz stuck around. But, despite all the reasons I knew it wasn't the right time ..."

A tear coursed down her cheek and she looked away again, embarrassed, making it suddenly as obvious to him as if she'd spoken out loud.

"It hurt that he knew it too," Chibs finished for her. "Jesus, love, you two really did put each other through the wringer, didn't you?"

"Time and time again," she nodded.

* * *

 _ **Ten years earlier**_

Kozik's eyes opened at the sound of the door, inner soldier taking over from outer junkie and putting him instantly on alert for any storm brewing. But, before he could even move from his spot, something dropped in his lap and Jenn simply headed past him towards the bedroom.

"You always were good at dodging bullets," was all that drifted back to him from over her shoulder, her earlier fire seeming well and truly doused.

A blue negative sign stared back at him from the white plastic casing.

He knew he should have been relieved. They both should. And yet ... He knew better than to try to put that into words. Even if he'd been high as a kite, he couldn't have missed the sheer sadness wrapped around his girl.

Getting up, he braved the door to their room, hovering there awkwardly as she sat with her back to him on the side of the bed, her head in her hands.

"JJ ..."

"I don't need you to tell me I'm being stupid, Koz."

He sighed at that, not wanting to spark another row, not when she was clearly so upset. Their usual fights were all fury and heat, and were made up in more or less the same way. This was different. Even he could see that.

"I'm sorry," he tried softly, the jolt of realisation that it was the truth rather than a kindness rekindling that old desire to turn things around for them both.

Rounding the bed to hunker down in front of her, Kozik's heart ached to see the tears on her face and he reached out to gently wipe them away before working the tiny baggie out of her trembling hands. For once, she didn't fight him. Maybe that in itself was a sign.

He couldn't deny the pull he felt himself, but he set his jaw in determination as he pitched the baggie towards the trashcan. He'd flush it later, but for now, she was his priority. "It ain't ever been the answer, baby," he said, lacing his fingers through hers as he gazed up into those hazy green eyes.

Maybe this time ...

* * *

"But there was always a next time," Jenn sighed, her words heavy with regret as she found herself telling Chibs another little piece of her history with his club brother.

"He still loved you, darlin'. You gotta hold onto that 'cause there ain't no point in what ifs."

"Thank you," she said suddenly, her voice low and full of emotion. "I mean it, Chibs. Thank you. For listening. For being so kind to us. I'm sure the last thing you need is to be dragged into this mess."

"It's what Koz would have wanted," he shrugged, turning uncomfortable in the face of her gratitude when he knew there was still at least one crucial element of it all unresolved. "But listen, love, there's something else we gotta talk about."

Those too-bright eyes scanned his face and she inhaled deeply, resignation in the slump of her shoulders. "About us moving on," she said, her voice quiet and flat. It wasn't a question.

He shook his head. "You don't-"

"I understand," Jenn said quickly. "I mean, like I said, you've been more than good to us already."

But he could read her fears as clearly as if they were etched across her face. _Where would they go? How would she take care of Lexie?_ _What if someone started asking questions?_ Her slim fingers twisted the hem of her shirt anxiously and Chibs took her hands in his to still them.

"We ain't perfect, but we ain't kicking you and the wee lass out on the street," he said gently. "That ain't what I'm trying to say."

"Then ... what?"

"Jenn," he tried, inwardly cursing himself for not having thought this through better. Or for not having gotten it out of the way sooner, before she opened her heart to him. Or for not having insisted Jax do his own dirty work. He knew the young VP was right though – it should come from someone she trusted him. Except, for him, that only made it worse. "It's about Koz."

"Koz?" she echoed, looking every bit as confused as she sounded.

"Aye, lass, and exactly what happened to him. If the cops ask."


	11. Eleven

**Eleven**

He tried to explain. Tried to find words that were less cold and harsh than the truth of what he was telling this girl, and tried to gauge her response even as she hunched over her coffee with her head down and face mostly hidden.

There was no other choice, that was the sum of it. No way to go public with Kozik's death when they didn't have so much as a body to bury. One mention of a motherfucking landmine, for Christ's sake, and they'd rain more heat down on their heads than their already under-fire club could ever handle.

There could be no grave, no death certificate, no closure. As far as anyone on the outside was concerned, the biker was simply in the wind. Leaving behind the bullet-shattered ruin of his lover's marriage …

Chibs waited for the moment he knew would come. The moment the penny would drop. It didn't take long and when Jenn looked up, fresh tears had already slid from beneath her lashes.

"He deserves better," she whispered.

"We ain't got a lot of options, pet."

"But … But you're talking about letting him take the fall. For me."

The Scotsman reached out to cover her hand with his. "Jenny, listen to me. We could make sure your piece of shit husband doesn't ever turn up. But if he doesn't, you're gonna be tied to him for a whole lot longer than I reckon you could handle, all things considered. If he's dead, officially dead, he's out o' your life for good. Way I see it, be a damn shame if that life was behind bars."

"What if I … tried to explain …"

"Tried to explain that you were busy gettin' your rocks off with your outlaw bit of rough before finding the time to plot the cold-blooded execution of the father of your wee kiddy?"

She was stunned into momentary silence. "You _know_ that's not what happened."

"Aye, I do," he sighed, forcing himself to put a hard face on it while fishing in the inside pocket of his leather cut and producing a small hip flask to spike both their drinks, despite their close proximity to the bar. "The cops don't. Or the judge. And you'd be taking a helluva gamble if you think you can convince a jury to side with a junkie stripper. Face it, if someone already squealed about you and Koz to your husband, it _will_ come out again when serious questions start getting asked. But maybe, just maybe, there's a chance you can convince the feds that you knew nothing about what happened."

"That Koz killed him, not me."

Chibs could tell she wasn't convinced, but he reached out to gently touch a hand to her chin, his touch grazing over a barely disguised bruise. "If Kozik had known about this, I'm willing to bet he'd have gladly done time for you, love. At least this way … he don't have to."

* * *

"I'd give _anything_ for Koz to be that little girl's dad – because an asshole like you doesn't fucking deserve her!"

Terrified, but squaring off with her husband in a blind fury, she never even saw it coming until it was too late. In one swift move, Joe fisted a hand in her hair and slammed her face-first into the nearest wall, swearing up a storm as she slumped to the floor. Blood poured from her temple, even while fresh pain exploded in her ribs and Joe still hauled his foot back for another kick.

The shouts and hammering at the front door just about registered beneath the pounding in her head, but the little voice from behind her was a different story.

"Mommy?"

"Lexie, no …" Jenn ground out, devastated at the thought of her little girl witnessing the clusterfuck unfolding in their kitchen and desperate to shield her from it if she could. "Baby, go back to bed."

But Lexie stood rooted to the spot, one hand clutching the paw of her beloved teddy bear and her free thumb heading instinctively for her mouth as her lip trembled unsurely. "Mommy hurt?"

"C'mere, kid," Joe said suddenly.

White-cold terror overtook red-hot agony as his gloating eyes locked with his wife's.

"No," Jenn tried, gasping in fresh pain as she tried to force herself up from the floor, frantically pleading with him and yet trying to keep her voice too low for Lexie to hear. "Joe, please. Don't you hurt her. Don't you dare."

He made a grab for his daughter, who fled with a little squeal of fright – even as the front door crashed in.

"Jesus, Jenn!"

The wave of relief at the mere sound of his voice was almost staggering, but ultimately short-lived in the face of everything else going on and she ricocheted between clutching at his shirt, desperate as she was for the comfort of his closeness, and pushing away his efforts to assess the severity of her injuries, more concerned for her daughter than for herself. "Lexie … Oh god, he went after Lexie," she sobbed. "You have to stop him, Koz. Please, don't let him hurt her. Don't let him hurt my baby!"

Strong hands gently tilted her head to get a better look at the deep gash still spilling blood into the tangled waves of her hair and down her face, before those blue eyes hardened and Kozik rose from his knees. "Don't move. I'll fucking end him for this."

"That right, biker boy? Try me."

At Jenn's whimper of fear, Kozik placed himself firmly in front of her and rounded on her husband furiously.

"You … _bastard_ ," he seethed, lost for the words to truly do justice to the extent of his fury, although the murderous look on his face went quite some way towards making up for that. "Where's Lexie?"

"Fucking my slut of a wife don't give you rights to my daughter, asshole. Now, get the hell out of my house before I put you out."

"Wife? You leave her bleeding on the floor and you still think you can call her your wife, you goddamn prick?" Kozik all but spat. "Oh, I'm leaving, but I'm taking them both with me."

"You ain't taking _shit_ …"

Joe, red-faced and breathing hard, launched himself at Kozik without warning, but the biker was more than ready for him. He brought his knee up hard into the other man's gut, knocking the wind out of him in a rush and sending him sprawling to the floor. Then he was on him, mercilessly.

Flecks of blood flew as bone crunched under relentless fists. Joe may have been almost as tall as his nemesis and even more heavily built, but Kozik was in infinitely better shape. A lucky punch caught him off-guard though and then hands were round the biker's throat and squeezing hard.

"No, let him go!" Jenn cried out in horror, trying to struggle to her feet as Kozik choked and fought to regain the upper hand.

"Not so fucking tough now, are you?" Joe snarled, through bloodstained teeth. Right before Kozik simply slammed his forehead into his and sent him reeling before reaching for the gun tucked at the back of his jeans. " _Motherfucker!_ "

"Jenn, go get Lexie," Kozik yelled, clearly trying to shield them both from what was to come. "JJ, go!"

With a howl of rage and frustration, Joe turned his attention back to his wife for a split second, reaching for her from where he was sprawled on the floor, all while still trying to wrestle the Glock from the biker's hand. "I will fucking kill you if you move, you bitch – you and the brat!"

His hand had barely closed around her ankle when the shot rang out and Jenn screamed in shock, frozen and almost too scared to look round for fear of what she might find. In the end, she glanced up just in time to watch Kozik throw his gun down on the chest of her husband as Joe's lifeless eyes seemed to lock with hers before her knees gave way and she sank to the floor with a gasping sob.

"JJ, baby … It's over. I promise, it's over."

* * *

"So where is he?"

Chibs paused, refilling their mugs from the coffee pot he'd had the prospect bring over before shooing him away, trying to buy himself time and yet realising that she knew exactly what he was doing. "Hmm?"

"Where is he?" Jenn repeated, her voice low and tearful rather than giving way to impatience or anger – although he couldn't help thinking that might be easier to take under the circumstances. "If it happened like you want to say it did, why isn't Koz here? Because I know if it did, I'd have grabbed Lexie and then fallen into his arms and never let go. We'd have left that house with him and never looked back. And … And every night when I close my eyes and have to see that body on the floor … Those d-dead eyes staring back at me every single night … He'd be here. Koz would _be_ here, Chibs, and he'd hold me tight and he'd tell me it would all be o-okay …"

At the first waver of her voice, the Scotsman had glanced away uncomfortably, unable to look her in the face, but as she broke down, he reached for her on instinct and pulled her into a hug with a sigh. "Jenny, pet, if I could rewrite this whole bloody mess for you, you know I would. But I can only work with what we've got, so you gotta be strong, love. I know it ain't easy, but it's the only way … You gotta play the grieving wife."

He could feel her tense in his arms as the full extent of the plan, if you could even call it that, dawned on her. "Jenn …"

"Are you serious?" she gasped. "I … I can't. After everything he put us through, I _can't_. I just can't!"

"You said it yourself, girl – where else would Koz be if everything was all neat and tidy but here with you? Way I see it, you gotta tell the cops things weren't that bad with you and Joe. Sure, you slipped up with your ex. So what? People make mistakes. But you loved your husband. And Koz couldn't accept that. So there must have been a fight and things got out of hand … he killed Joe and took off. No, hear me out, love. You weren't there – you'd gone to stay with a friend, to get away from the pair o' them for a bit and clear your head … No, not a friend - a motel. I know a place where the manager'll swear down you never left the joint …"

"Chibs, stop," she all but pleaded, trying to dash tears from her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. "I can't do this. I can't blame Koz. I can't let him be the one who has to fix my mess. Not again. Not even when he's … gone. I'm sorry, but I can't."

He wiped a hand over his own face and finally nodded slowly, realising there was no point in fighting a losing battle. "Okay. It's okay. Maybe it ain't a good idea anyway – god knows the feds would love an excuse to bag a Son for murder and we really don't need them turning us inside out looking for Koz right now."

"I'm so sorry for dragging you into this," Jenn said, not for the first time. "If it wasn't for Lexie, I'd go and take my chances."

"Hey, don't go talking like that. We'll … think of something else. Somehow," Chibs said. "You just sit tight, love. You hear me?"

She may have nodded in the end, but her reluctance wasn't lost on him and worry etched itself fresh across his scarred face. "I'll talk to Jax," he sighed, equally reluctant to have to involve his young VP too much given the strain he'd been under of late and how shit had gone down with that godforsaken cartel.

But right now, their options were only narrowing and he couldn't see a way out. Or at least not one that didn't end with the girl in jail and her little girl taken away.

Fuck no, not on his watch.


	12. Twelve

**Twelve**

"Mind if I …?"

Jenn had looked around at the sound of footsteps on the clubhouse roof behind her, a little surprised to see the heir to the biker kingdom himself. No one had told her what was going on, of course, but she got the general sense that the club had enough on its plate right now without her complicating things.

She shrugged in response to the question he'd left hanging. "Hey, it's your place."

Dropping down beside her and fishing in his pocket before producing a pack of smokes and a lighter. He lit up in silence, taking a long drag as he gazed out across the Teller-Morrow lot, and then offering the cigarette to her as an afterthought. She considered for a moment and then took it.

"Listen, Jenn," he tried, when she'd taken a couple of delicate hits and returned the butt. "I know it maybe don't seem like it right now with everything going on, but Kozik … Kozik was family. A brother. _My_ brother. And if I could go back and change what happened to him, I would. I'm so sorry he ain't here for you, darlin'."

"Thanks," she managed softly, unable to bring herself to take out any blame she may have felt towards the club on its young VP. Not when he seemed so sincere in his quiet grief for the man they had both loved in their own way.

"Can't believe I didn't guess there was a woman in his life," Jax added, with a little grin, clearly trying to keep things light. "The way he'd been knocking back croweaters all these months … Man, I almost thought we were gonna lose him to the priesthood!"

Jenn had to smile at that, amused by the unlikely image conjured up, but also touched to learn that she hadn't inadvertently been sharing the handsome biker with any of the girls she knew flocked to the clubhouse hoping to bag themselves a bad boy.

"It's funny," she sighed. "For all the ways we hurt each other over the years, faithfulness was never really a problem. Guess we had more than our share of vices to contend with already."

"Tig told me how you guys met. Some support group?"

"Junkies R' Us," she nodded. "It wasn't called that, but it might as well have been. I'd love to tell you it was some touching tale of love blossoming out of comfort, but the reality's a lot less romantic. Relationships within the group were … Well, maybe not banned exactly, but definitely frowned on ..."

Jax smiled knowingly. "Lemme guess, you guys weren't exactly big on following rules?"

"Right. I mean, that's pretty much what got us there in the first place," Jenn said. "And I wasn't really there for the right reason anyway. You gotta want to get clean. Really want it. For yourself, not anybody else. I was only doing it 'cause I'd been kicked out of dance school and still thought I could talk my way back in."

"So our boy turns on that Kozik charm and -"

"Actually, it was pretty much me doing the chasing," she admitted. "Koz … He was serious about getting clean. He had the club breathing down his neck, for a start. Me … I just wanted to have fun." She broke off to laugh bitterly at that, her gaze dropping to her hands as she twisted her rings awkwardly. "Fun. I fucked up everything I had and thought I was having _fun_. God, I was so fucking stupid, Jax."

He sighed and slung an arm around her slim shoulders, seeming to know exactly how she felt and somehow knowing better than to argue with her. She thought all the more of him for that.

"We all gotta live with the choices we make, darlin'," the biker said, exhaling a stream of smoke and then taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Sounds like a man who knows a thing or two about regret," Jenn said softly, leaning against his shoulder.

"Probably a little less than I should," Jax sighed. "Still more than I like to admit. What happened to Koz is definitely right up there on the list. I should have been able to bring him home to you."

Even though part of her couldn't quite disagree, Jenn swallowed her emotions down and somehow managed to shake her head. "It's not easy for me to say it, or understand it, but he knew the risks, Jax. And he would have followed you anywhere. He didn't tell me more than he should have, but I know he was proud of you. He always said the next generation of the club would be safe in your hands."

The VP managed a wry smile at that. "Wish I had his confidence right now."

"Even if you could have known what would happen, you couldn't have stopped him going with you," Jenn said.

"Always was loyal to a fault."

"Don't I fucking know it?" Jenn sighed, feeling him pull her closer as a tear slipped down her cheek. "What am I gonna do, Jax?"

"Hey, we'll figure this shit out," he assured her. "We always do. Somehow."

* * *

 _ **Twelve years earlier**_

He didn't want to be here and he wasn't exactly going out of his way to hide it. He was here because he needed to be and even he damn well knew that. But the rest of it … Forget it. He wasn't here to over-share with a bunch of fucking strangers and he wasn't interested in making friends.

He needed this though. Much as it pained him to admit it.

Some middle-aged asshole whose mid-life crisis had clearly gotten out of hand made as if he was going to park his booze-soaked ass beside him and Kozik shot him a dark look from under the baseball cap he'd pulled down low over his eyes. With his arms crossed over his chest and his don't-fuck-with-me vibe firmly in place, he got his message across. His cut might have been even more effective, but he wasn't going to disrespect the patch like that, wearing it to this shit.

He couldn't get past the feeling that he'd let down his club through his weakness. He'd been fucking lucky they'd ever taken a chance on him in the first place. If it hadn't been for Tig sponsoring him, he knew he wouldn't even have had that …

"Hey, could you hold this for me a second? Shit, sorry!"

Startled out of his reverie by a polystyrene cup of the sickly looking sludge that was supposed to pass for coffee being shoved into his hand, Kozik found it was either take it or end up with it in his lap.

"Watch it," he grunted, as the steaming liquid came perilously close to splashing over his hand.

"Sorry, I was running late and totally needed a caffeine fix, but I didn't have time and now I'm stuck with this shit. Think it'll, like, melt my oesophagus or something?"

He bit back the urge to express hope that might at least shut her up and instead glanced up to actually take a proper look at whoever had intruded uninvited on his relative solitude.

Dark red hair, in a vibrant shade nature had clearly fuck all to do with, was piled in a messy bun on top of her head and green eyes twinkled at him in a way that already suggested she was trouble. Gray baggy sweatpants cropped just below her knees showed off lightly tanned admittedly killer legs ending in white sneakers, while the simple white t-shirt below her black leather jacket dipped low enough to reveal a tantalising hint of cleavage.

She seemed to be taking him in at the same time, as if she knew what he was thinking, her eyes flickering approvingly over his muscular frame before she met his gaze and smirked.

Trouble. So much fucking trouble.

"Think the delightful Marci's gonna thrill us all again with another housewife's special tale of pill-popping abstinence?" she asked, settling herself on the free chair right beside him with an easy grace and dumping her bag on the floor before taking back her coffee cup. "It'd be so much more entertaining if she just copped to swapping the Prozac for … I dunno … Eating her own weight in chocolate, or riding the pool boy like a prize stallion every other lunchtime."

Kozik snorted at that unexpected take on the life of the uptight afore-mentioned Marci, whose repressed existence had led her down the rabbit hole of self-medication and now she was desperate to get a handle on things before her husband found out. Or, more importantly, her social circle.

The girl grinned at having managed to get a reaction from him and took a triumphant little sip of her coffee, her nose quickly crinkling in disgust.

"Jesus. First break we get, we gotta escape for decent coffee. Seriously."

"You ain't gonna have time to get anywhere decent," Kozik told her.

"Then we'll just have to bunk off," she shrugged lightly.

"We?"

"Don't tell me you're pussying out on me, tough guy?"

The biker side-eyed her. She was easily one of the youngest people in the room, along with a couple of cocky frat boys probably under court order after clocking up DUIs. A good handful more were around his age and the rest were all varying degrees of older. But he'd have guessed she couldn't be much more than twenty-one, apart from something older in those eyes that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Seriously tight little body though, he couldn't deny that.

And he had to reluctantly admire her front, even if it probably was just that - a front. No slinking in, head down, shoulders hunched, like the rest of them for this chick. Nah, she carried herself like she didn't give a fuck what anyone thought.

She shifted as if to get more comfortable in her seat, like that was possible on the unforgiving hard plastic, and pushed up the sleeves of her jacket to just about her elbows. It was only later that it occurred to him it had been deliberate. He definitely hadn't expected to clock the tell-tale track marks. Only a couple, but enough.

She smirked again at his sharp look, leaning in close to whisper in his ear as the counsellor finally got his shit together and spoke up to start the session. "What? You think you're the only badass here?"

Oh yeah, she was fucking trouble all right.

* * *

"I … I didn't think you'd be too sympathetic to a junkie," Jenn said tentatively, unsure how the VP would take being reminded of his own connections to that complicated world. "Koz told me about your ex. How it affected your little boy. I'm sorry."

"We got him through it. That's all that matters now," Jax said simply.

"I got lucky with Lexie. Really lucky. She was a little premature, but she was okay. I could have … I could have really messed her up. Feels like I'm still messing her up."

"You're making it right. That's what counts. Stay clean, for her, for yourself, and we ain't gonna abandon you, babe. You were important to Koz, so you're important to us. I mean that. And hey, even if I didn't, I'd probably have half my guys on my back."

"Even Tig?"

"Especially Tig actually," Jax said. "His bark's worse than his bite, you know."

She eyed him sceptically. "No, it isn't."

"No, you're right," he admitted, with a wry laugh and another pull on his cigarette. "It really isn't."

"Lexie's really taken to him, you know? Tig. Of all people."

"And he's fond of the kid. You don't have to worry - she won't come to any harm with him."

"I know," Jenn conceded. "Just like I know he loved Koz. It was mostly me he had an issue with. I used to think he just hated me getting in the way of their bromance."

"What can I say? He's a complicated man, our Tigger," Jax smiled, finally stubbing out the butt of his smoke and rising to his feet. "But he is good with you being here. I dunno … I think maybe he feels guilty for being hard on you in the past or some shit. Not that he'd ever admit it."

"Well, as long as I'm not causing trouble," Jenn said, managing a little smile as she took the hand he held out to help her up. "And I promise I'll try to get out of your hair soon. I'll start looking for a place, a job …"

"Actually," the biker started thoughtfully, his head cocked on one side as he studied her for a second. "My mom could do with a hand running the T-M office – if the prospects fuck up her system one more time, she swears down she's gonna shoot them. And I believe her. It'd probably only be a couple of days a week though. She's not ready to be a full-time grandma just yet. She'd miss interfering too much," he added with a grin.

"It'd be great not to have to go back to somewhere like that bar," she admitted. "And everyone here's been so kind. I dunno if I know much about running a garage though …"

"It'd mostly be answering the phone, taking bookings and payments. Organising shit. You can leave the bikes and cars to us, darlin'. And prospects aren't bad at following orders – but they're a fucking disaster at using common sense. You'd be doing us a favour. Seriously And, thinking about it, I might have something else for ya. If you're up for it."

"Yeah? What's that then?" she asked curiously, as he gave her the once-over and flashed her a killer smile not dissimilar to one she used to see on Kozik's face.

"So the club owns this place called CaraCara …"


	13. Thirteen

**Thirteen**

"Jax," Lyla Winston smiled brightly, realising why so many of her girls seemed to be finding excuses to drift through CaraCara's reception area when she spotted the handsome heir to the biker throne. Her husband's best friend didn't stop by all that often, but when he did, it usually caused a stir. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd check up on club … assets," he grinned, his head tilting to the side to admire one particularly scantily clad pert backside. There had to be some perks to owning a porn studio after all.

"I promise not to tell Tara you said that," the willowy blonde laughed, swatting at his arm. "Seriously though, what's up? Because it's been manic around here, so I'm a bit up against it right now. If it's a budget thing, quality costs, Jax …"

"Nah, nothing like that, darlin', don't worry. I've actually got a proposition for you. It'll take like two minutes."

"I've heard that before," Lyla smirked. "Okay, come through to my office and-"

Jax could see her eyes widen even as he heard the front door behind him crash open and turned, a hand going instinctively for the gun in the shoulder holster under his cut, to see his sergeant storm in with the club's de facto medic trailing in his wake.

"Tiggy, you need to cool it, brother," Chibs was trying to tell the curly-haired biker, even as he marched right up to Jax, blue eyes blazing.

"It true?" came the sharp demand, a finger jabbing in Jax's face.

"What the hell is this?" Jax asked, torn somewhere between bemusement and irritation at being called out so publicly and over something he had no idea about.

"You can't be serious about this," Tig continued to rant. "It ain't right. It just ain't right."

Jax turned to Chibs. "What the fuck's his deal?"

"He ain't happy about the prospect of wee Jenny working here," the Scot sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I might have told him to have a quiet word with you. For the record, I did _not_ say charge about like a bull in a china shop, but you know our Tiggy. And Jacky-boy, I gotta admit to having a few doubts meself, if I'm honest. I dunno that Kozik would take kindly to his lass working in porn … No offense, love," he added, for Lyla's benefit.

Slowly, the pieces fell into place for Jax and he shook his head, unable to help starting to laugh even as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, only succeeding in winding Tig up even further and prompting Chibs to quickly step between them in an effort to keep the peace.

"This ain't no laughing matter!" Tig raged. "What the hell's wrong with you?!"

"Jesus Christ, man, chill," Jax tried. "You think I'm seriously gonna suggest Jenn go into _porn_ after everything she's been through? I thought she could help Lyla with the management shit – booking talent and crews, making sure everyone sticks to schedules, looking after guest producers. Strictly off camera."

That took the wind out of Tig's sails, while even Chibs looked visibly relieved and Lyla had also brightened up at the apparent prospect of exactly the kind of help she'd been needing.

"Are you serious, Jax? I can hire someone, like a studio manager? Because I haven't really got the budget for that right now …"

"You can hire someone," he nodded. "I'll clear the funds. And no pressure, but I'd appreciate it if you gave Jenn a go. If she's up for it. If it don't work out, fine. But it'd be good to be able to look after one of our own."

"Six-week trial from as soon as she can start?" Lyla suggested, a wide hopeful smile on her face.

"Deal," Jax grinned, before turning back to his men. "If that's okay with you?"

"Sounds like a plan, Jacky," Chibs said sheepishly. "Eh, Tiggy?"

"Suppose so," he mumbled. "Sorry, brother."

And without another word, he'd already headed back out the way he came in, leaving Chibs and Jax staring after him, before exchanging a look.

"Should I be worried about him?" Jax asked.

"Nah," Chibs waved it off. "Surprisingly sensitive, our Tig, when he wants to be."

"That's what worries me," Jax grinned, before being alerted to a text message on his phone and fishing it out of his cut to read it. "Clay," he said, for Chibs' benefit. "Church in an hour. Round up the guys."

* * *

"So," Clay drawled, from his seat at the top of the SAMCRO table, taking a long pull on his cigar as he surveyed his men. "Our unexpected guests. Time's moving on and we need to find a way to resolve the situation before it ends up getting taken out of our hands."

"The girls ain't any trouble, boss," Tig chipped in, glaring defensively round at the others like he was daring them to contradict him.

"No, they ain't," Clay nodded. "And I ain't disputing that we got a responsibility to them. For Kozik's sake. But they could be a shitload of trouble if certain loose ends aren't tied up. And soon. To that end … I've been thinking we need to keep this simple. No complicated fabrications waiting to trip us up. Just the truth."

His sergeant frowned. "But-"

"Hear me out, man. We go to Unser."

"Ain't his turf," Tig said immediately. "Look, I'm sorry, Clay – I ain't trying to look for problems, but we can't gamble with that kid. If she gets taken off her mom, that's it. A junkie stripper who offed her old man ain't ever getting her back."

"Ex-junkie," Chibs pointed out. "Ex-stripper. Unless Jacky-boy's got plans for T-M he ain't sharing …"

"Don't you start," Jax jokingly warned. "Listen, Clay's right. Unser could be our best bet. All we need is someone the local cops will take seriously. Fellow law enforcement definitely fits that bill."

"And he'll get on board as a favour to the club," Clay nodded. "And when he knows the truth about what went down, he ain't gonna want to see the girl lose her kid over this shit either. He'll get that it was self-defence when he sees the state of her."

"And Tara'll fill him in on the medical details," Jax added. "She can vouch that Jenn ain't using, and prove the beat-down she took wasn't a one-off."

The men gathered around the carved table looked grim at that reminder of what had brought their visitors to them in the first place. Violence may have been part of their world, but they'd all been made aware of exactly who Jenn was and why they should care about her fate, and it didn't sit right with any of them that the pretty young woman had been made to suffer such unprovoked brutality by the man who should have wanted to protect her. As far as they were concerned, she was their fallen brother's old lady and the deadbeat asshole she'd been unfortunate enough to call a husband had gotten exactly what was coming to him.

"You don't think her connection to us makes it a harder sell?" Tig pushed, concern still knitting his brow as he toyed with the heavy rings on his fingers. "Fucking cops don't exactly need an excuse to come after SAMCRO. They don't gotta reach far to come up with a very different explanation – one where she's a cheating murderous bitch and we're harbouring her."

"That's where we … create a little distance," Jax said, looking like the idea was just formulating itself in his mind even as he spoke. "Unser can know the whole story, so he gets it - he just don't have to spill his guts. Jenn don't gotta be anyone's old lady, not officially. Not with Koz … gone. She's … just a friend of Ope's old lady, yeah? Ope?"

The big bearded biker nodded thoughtfully as he considered. "Yeah, Lyla'll be down with that."

"So she's just a friend of Lyla's, someone on the periphery of the club, doing a bit of work at T-M and CaraCara … Of course, we're supporting her. She ain't family, but she's … an old friend. Small town like this, that ain't gonna raise too many alarm bells. Not if she's been separated from her husband for a while and, let's face it, he ain't gonna be able to argue that," Jax said, letting his plan spin itself out into something more complete. "News of his demise comes out … She's left him, so she ain't beside herself, but she's still upset – he's her ex, still the father of her kid. We get Lyla or Tara to run interference with the cops. Keep it simple. She's numb, upset. We're looking after her. Terrible thing to happen. Most likely a freak accident. It happens. Hey, maybe suicide. Man like that, more or less out of work, drinking problem, missing his wife and kid … Hap?"

Happy nodded. "I can go back and make it look like whatever you want," he shrugged.

Jax looked round the table at that, his eyebrows raised as he finally reached Clay. The president considered for a moment and then nodded himself.

"Then it's settled. Happy takes care of the immediate problem," he ruled. "Sooner rather than later. The window before someone else reports that son of bitch missing, or just stops by the house, is closing. I'll talk to Unser, with Jax and Tara. Any objections?"

When no one spoke, Clay brought the hammer down on the gavel in front of him. "Dismissed."

* * *

The bikers filed out of church to go about their business, Tig quickly spotting Jenn trying to scoop her little girl up from the couch she'd fallen fast asleep on and struggling, no doubt because of the injuries to her ribs.

"Here, let me," he said gruffly, striding over and lifting the child easily without so much as disturbing her. "Kid shouldn't be staying in a place like this."

The redhead sighed wearily and glanced down at her feet uncomfortably. "I know, okay? And if I had anywhere else to take her, I'd get out of your way right now …"

But Tig swore under his breath, realising how what he'd said must have sounded, especially given their history. It actually wasn't what he'd meant though and, for once, he was going to be big enough to admit it.

"I know a place," he blurted out.

Jenn frowned in obvious confusion, clearly on her guard. "Is this where you make some dig about the local crackhouse or something?"

He scowled, but tried not to bite her head off. After all, he could see why she'd think like that. There'd even been a time she'd probably have been right. "It ain't exactly a palace," he continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "Don't stay there much myself. But it's clean, quiet …"

Too quiet, if truth be told. That was probably why he didn't stay there.

"Your house? You're offering to let us stay at your house?" Jenn said, still looking unsure she was understanding him right. "Why?"

"Hey, you wanna stay or not, Red?" he snapped, only just remembering to keep his voice down in deference to the little girl still sleeping peacefully in his arms.

"I … I guess. If you're sure …"

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't," Tig said roughly. "Go get your shit. I'll bring Lexie. Can borrow Gem's car."

Hesitantly, like she was waiting for some punchline to kick in, she went – leaving him to look down at Lexie as he rocked her gently and reached to brush a lock of silky dark hair back from her small face. She reminded him of his own daughters at that age, even though that seemed like another lifetime now.

"Let's go home, baby girl," he murmured.


	14. Fourteen

**A/N: Thanks to those still reading. While how this plays out in terms of the main story is all mapped out, some strands are still up in the air, especially around the exact role some of the Sons will play in the lives of Jenn and Lexie ... It'd be lovely to hear your thoughts! T x**

 **PS: I haven't written this much Tig in a very long time, even though I love his character. He's a tough one to try to get right. Hopefully I'm not totally sucking at it!**

* * *

 **Fourteen**

Glancing over at the young woman in the passenger seat of Gemma's huge Escalade, Tig considered trying to break the awkward silence, but ended up thinking the better of it and turning his attention back to the road. She was still in his thoughts though, no matter how much he tried to shake them off.

He had to give it to the girl – she really must be every inch the tough little bitch Kozik had always vouched for. For all the hell she'd been through, she was still standing. Just about. He knew grown men who couldn't have come out the other side of the kinda shit she'd dealt with. Drugs, prison, abuse …

And he could guess how bad things must have been. After all, he'd been the one to prise that gun from her hand in the seconds after she'd been pushed to the point of finishing the piece of shit she called a husband. And she wasn't the type to pull that kinda stunt on a whim. He'd seen the terror it had taken to get her there. She'd been terrified for her life. For Lexie's life.

Fresh guilt washed over him in waves and his hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. He'd treated her badly enough in the past, he knew that, no matter how much Koz had protested and tried to defend her. He'd been the one who had finally convinced her to cut ties with his brother and he'd terrorised her to do it. But now he had something else to top all that.

He'd realised as soon as they'd first found her at that dive where she worked just how badly she was hurting, and it wasn't just the bruises. The way she carried herself, something in those eyes that hadn't been there even when she'd been fighting addiction … He'd known straight away that the beating had been brutal – and that it hadn't been the first. And he'd still sent her back to the asshole responsible. That was on him.

Chibs had seen it too and the big-hearted Scot had wanted to take her with them there and then. Even Happy would have fallen in with that. But, oh no, Tig had just delivered her right back into her own personal hell.

And look how well that had worked out.

That bastard may have deserved a bullet, and fuck knows he'd probably have ended up on the receiving end of one anyway, but this way … This way, the girl would always be haunted by what she had done. Tig, as his own demons could testify, knew that better than most.

Yeah, it was still very early days and the pale face and dark shadows beneath those green eyes were only to be expected at this point. But it was going to take a hell of a lot of strength to ever truly get past the nightmares and sleepless nights. And, right now, he wasn't sure she had enough fight left in her for that.

"It ain't far," the grim-faced sergeant said suddenly, his eyes still fixed on the road and the words escaping before he even realised. "Ain't trying to get you out of the way either, before you go thinking it. Just thought a clubhouse full of booze and broads and assholes like us maybe ain't the kinda place you want a little girl."

"I get it," Jenn said softly, her head resting against the window as she gazed out into the growing dusk before finally shifting to look at him. "And I do appreciate it. I … I was just surprised you wanted to help me. I guess I shouldn't have been – not when you've been so good to Lexie already."

"Sweet kid," Tig admitted, sharp blue eyes glancing at the kid in the rear-view mirror and letting the ghost of a smile tug at his lips to see her still out for the count. "Must have worn herself out running around with Abel."

Her mother simply nodded, fresh tears sparkling in her eyes, although she blinked them back hastily. And then they were pulling into the driveway of a little house with an overgrown yard and the moment had passed.

"I'll bring the kid, you get the bags," Tig said gruffly, though he almost winced himself to see the pain it caused her trying to climb down from the passenger's side. "Shit, wait. I said wait!"

He hurried round to her side of the car to help, but it was too late. She'd paled even more as soon as her feet hit the ground and, at the stifled gasp of pain, swayed unsteadily. He caught her just in time to stop her collapsing to the ground, scooping her up bridal style with a curse.

All he could do was struggle to get the door unlocked with her unconscious in his arms, get her inside and deposited on the couch, and then jog back outside to get Lexie, only to find she had woken up and, rubbing sleepily at her eyes, was on the verge of crying out in fear at having found herself all alone.

"Hey now, baby," Tig murmured soothingly, lifting her out of Abel's car seat as her lower lip wobbled and cradling her against his shoulder. "It's okay. Your Uncle Tig's here. And your mom's right inside, just having a little nap. C'mon, princess, let's go see her, huh?"

He'd had every intention of leaving them to it and heading back to the clubhouse, where he could be sure to spend a hassle-free night satisfying all his baser desires. But how could he leave the kid when he couldn't be sure her mom was in any fit state to look after her?

Thankfully, the three-year-old was familiar enough with him already to have settled easily enough and now snuggled up to him despite her shyness, her little arms going tightly around his neck in an unspoken show of trust that touched the biker more than he would have liked to admit. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, rueing in that instant every missed opportunity with his own twin daughters, before carrying her inside.

He'd failed everyone he'd ever given a shit about, but if this was the last good thing he could do for Kozik, then he was determined he would fucking do it.

* * *

Sprawled on his back on the couch, one arm tucked behind his head, Tig stared upwards through the darkness. It had to be two, maybe three in the morning and yet sleep had never seemed so far away. Although that wasn't strictly true. He'd had his share of sleepless nights over the years.

Most of the time, he'd have succumbed to his usual vices and either drank himself into oblivion or at least made the most of the time with some choice company. That was definitely one of the perks of staying at the clubhouse. No patch ever had to spend the night alone, not unless they wanted to, and who'd want to when they could be getting their dick wet instead?

But this wasn't the clubhouse and he didn't even have a bed right now, let alone anyone to share it with. Well, technically, he had a bed. It was just taken. And sharing with its occupants definitely wasn't an option. Jenn had been unsure. Some shit about imposing. But hey, he wasn't a complete asshole. He wasn't going to make the girl, and especially not her little kid, crash on the couch. Even if it wasn't the greatest fit ever for his larger frame to stretch out on. Not that it would have been any better for Jenn right now, not with her injuries.

She'd refused his offer to call either Tara or Chibs though. Always had been a stubborn bitch – that much he definitely remembered. Still, he supposed he could hardly say too much about her refusal to take the edge off. Hell, he was probably part of the reason, given his past reactions to any lapse in her then tenuous sobriety.

Anyway, he was fine with sleeping downstairs, or not as the case may be, for tonight. He'd crashed in worse places. Way worse. Meanwhile, Jenn – still obviously embarrassed to have passed out on him – had finally given in to sleep out of sheer exhaustion, curled up under his sheets next to her little daughter. Tomorrow …He'd head back to the clubhouse tomorrow. Leave them to it when they'd had a night to settle in. He supposed he'd have to get used to the idea of having lodgers of sorts for a few weeks. Just until Jenn got back on her feet and sorted something more permanent …

"You fucking owe me, shithead," he muttered under his breath to his fallen brother, dashing a hand over his suddenly damp eyes and swearing softly to himself. The fuck was wrong with him? He'd been a goddamn Marine, so had Koz. They knew what it was to lose brothers. Way of the goddamn world. You just had to get your shit in check and get on with it.

His burner ringing on the coffee table jerked him out of his mess of thoughts and straight into sergeant mode and he grabbed it, more concerned for club shit going down than the prospect of waking the girls. Although that did flicker into his mind as an afterthought.

"What's up?" he demanded.

"Cops found a body," Clay said, from the other end of the line. "Have the girl working at TM in the morning. Unser's gonna come for her. Break the news, so to speak."

"Will do, boss," Tig said, nodding even though he couldn't be seen. The wheels of their plan were in motion and with any luck, this would all blow over in a few days. The worst of it anyway. "I'll-"

The scream from upstairs cut him dead and he almost dropped the phone. " _Motherfucker!_ "

"Tig? _Tig!_ What the fuck's going on?" the SAMCRO president demanded, but his sergeant couldn't hear him as he raced for the bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time, the phone clenched in one hand and his gun drawn in the other.

* * *

Bursting wild-eyed into the bedroom, all manner of horrors running through his mind, he found the redhead trembling and crying as she tried to soothe the little girl she'd clearly terrified with her scream, apologies stumbling to her lips as her gaze met his.

"I … I thought … I must have been dreaming … I'm sorry. Oh, Lexie, sweetie, I'm so sorry," she tried, tears flowing down her flushed cheeks.

"Jesus," Tig sighed, half exasperated and half relieved as he lowered his piece and lifted the phone to his ear again. "Clay? False fucking alarm."

Ending the call, he eyed his guests dubiously, at a loss for what the hell he was supposed to do. He was starting to regret getting involved in this clusterfuck at all and quickly decided he'd have definitely preferred some kind of actual threat to this bullshit. At least that way, he'd have gotten down to taking care of business. Kicked some ass, or shot some fucker up. Neutralised the situation. Vastly preferable to standing in the doorway of his own fucking bedroom with his thumb up his ass, feeling like a spare part.

And it didn't help having his dead brother's broad sat on his bed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that wasn't actually, from the way it was riding high up her thighs and clinging to her ass, all that oversized at all. Although the neck did dip low enough to reveal way more cleavage than he'd been expecting to see tonight …

 _Tight little bad-girl dancer …_

Chibs' words drifted unbidden through his mind and, Jesus Christ, he tried to mentally check himself.

Shit. Here she was, sobbing over … Fuck knows what exactly. It wasn't like she didn't have plenty to choose from, between the dead husband who'd beat her black and blue and the dead lover who hadn't been there to save her. She was a goddamn mess. A mess with a three-year-old kid at that. And he was staring at her tits.

He was going straight to hell.

But then he'd always suspected that.


End file.
